Dreams
by WanderingTroubadour
Summary: 50 themes; 50 drabbles/one-shots. Royai. Rated T for safety. Lots of fluff, some angst, a little humor...will update as I am able.
1. Comfort

**So I decided to take the 50 sentences prompt (if you want to read that one, it's called "50 Reasons Why") and turn it into 50 different drabbles and one-shots based on the themes. And because I'm stubborn and maybe a tad bit obsessed, they'll (most likely) all be Royai. It's called "Dreams" because this stuff will only happen in my headspace, and only in my dreams will Roy and Riza ever get together. (Oh, Arakawa, why do you toy with my emotions so?)**

**These may or may not use the same ideas I had in the 50 sentences prompt. Feedback would be wonderful, and I'll do my best to reply.**

**If there are any necessary warnings, I'll post them with each theme. However, I doubt there will be anything that will really warrant a warning.**

**Disclaimer (applies to all themes): Fullmetal Alchemist is way too cool to have been made by me.**

* * *

><p><strong>Comfort<strong>

"Thanks again for everything, Roy. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped out." Riza and Roy stood at the entrance to the Hawkeye household after Berthold's funeral.

"It was the least I could do. Are you going to be okay?" Roy replied with a concerned smile. Riza hadn't cried during the funeral nor when she was standing by her father's grave. He knew that Berthold and Riza had never really been close, but Berthold was the girl's father—shouldn't that count for something? Roy might have almost believed that Riza didn't care about her father if it hadn't been for the almost imperceptible slump of her shoulders, the barely noticeable dullness in her eyes, or the way she toyed with the hem of her dress almost nervously. Perhaps she didn't want to cry in front of him, but…they were close. She was the closest friend he'd ever made, and he knew that he was really the only true friend she had. Couldn't she put her pride aside for a moment? Friends helped each other out. But how could he help her if she refused to receive it?

Riza gave a small, sad smile and nodded. "Yes, thank you. Would you like some tea?" She opened the door to the house and stepped to the side, inviting him in. Roy gladly obliged.

He followed her to the kitchen, watching her move about the tiny room and fill the kettle with water. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. He walked over to where Riza stood with the kettle and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you take a break and rest, Riza? You've had a long day. I'll handle the tea."

If Riza was shocked at the contact, she gave no sign of it. She turned slightly, a hint of a blush at her cheeks, and replied, "You've done so much already. I couldn't ask you to do more. Please, allow me to repay you for your kindness." She refused to make eye contact with him.

"I insist," Roy said firmly, but not unkindly. "Your father just died. I know you have emotions, even though you try to hide them, and I can see that today has been rather trying for you. Please, take it easy for once." He stepped around in front of her and carefully took the kettle, placing it on the counter behind him. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently spun her around, walked her to the sitting room, and pushed her down onto the couch as lightly as he could. He was about to go back to the kitchen when he noticed her eyes on him.

He could have almost sworn that they were begging him not to leave.

So he didn't. He stayed. Forgetting the kettle and the promise of tea, he took a seat on the couch next to this impossibly strong, intelligent girl—no, he guessed she was a woman now.

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Roy looked over at her to see if she was all right. That was when he noticed the silent tears falling down her cheeks. _So she does trust me enough to cry in front of me_, he thought, shocked, to himself before regaining his composure and deciding to _do_ something about those tears.

"Hey, Riza…you all right?" he tentatively asked, then mentally kicked himself for saying something so stupid—of course she wasn't all right. Riza gave a little jump at the sudden noise, as if she had forgotten that Roy was even there, then she quickly turned her head away and wiped furiously at her face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she said softly. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be so—" She stopped talking, shocked at the feeling of being pulled into a warm, gentle embrace. She hadn't been hugged in years—her father had never thought it necessary, and Roy certainly hadn't wanted to face his sensei's wrath should he find them in such a position. The sudden closeness of another human and the feeling of what she had been missing started a fresh stream of tears down Riza's face.

"Shhhh. It's okay. I'm here, and I'm not leaving." Roy pulled her closer and rested her head on his chest, placing his head on top of hers. He could feel his shirt growing damp under her cheeks, and he felt a strange sense of pride at being the only one allowed to see her during her moment of weakness. Eventually, Riza's breathing slowed and became rhythmic. Roy smiled as he realized she was sleeping. _Well, she has had a long day_, he thought. _I suppose it wouldn't kill me to spend the night with her, too_.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks so much for reading! Please review, and if you liked it, stay tuned for more! I'll try to post when I'm not being swallowed up by college...<strong>


	2. Kiss

**A short one! Yay! Again, I'd love feedback. Disclaimer applies here.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Kiss<strong>

He had first kissed her after the Ishvalan war, mostly out of relief that they were still alive. It was pure and chaste, simply a testing of the waters. It had not gone farther than that for many years.

The second time Roy kissed Riza was after the Promised Day, when he had regained his sight. He saw his lieutenant sitting there in the bed next to his, and he wondered how on earth he had been able to resist her before.

The third time they kissed was after Roy was made Fuhrer. After his installment, he got down on one knee and presented his lifelong partner and childhood friend with a beautiful, yet simple, diamond ring. There were people watching them, though, so he kept the kiss quick and simple.

After that, they kissed on a regular basis, soon losing count of how many they shared. They had been married for years now and were beginning to feel the effects of aging. But the one thing that could make Roy feel completely young and new again was the incredible high he got from kissing his wife. All it took was that one simple touch, and all his stress and fatigue slipped away like smoke in the breeze.


	3. Soft

**Aaaaaaand even shorter than the last one! I'm getting lazy. :) I can haz feedback? Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Soft<strong>

Riza lay with her head on Roy's chest, arm haphazardly thrown around his waist, sweat cooling and breathing returning to normal. Roy's fingers traced formless patterns on Riza's back, skimming over the burn scars he had left there so long ago. It amazed him that such marred skin could contain such mesmerizing beauty and be just as soft and smooth as the rest of her. Was there any part of Riza that would ever cease to amaze him? He doubted it.

She was perfect.


	4. Pain

**A little attempt at something somewhat angsty. Let me know how it turned out. Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Pain<strong>

Roy's vision was tainted red with rage. Not more than twenty feet in front of him lay his First Lieutenant in a pool of blood. The offer he had been given was simple: perform human transmutation, and this woman's life will be saved. It would be so easy to give in. After all, he had sworn to protect the ones he loved, and he had never loved anyone more in his life than this woman who was struggling to stay conscious as she bled out.

"Colonel," her voice came out weakly and full of pain. "You don't have to do this. Don't sacrifice everything…for my sake."

And there she was, still looking out for him, still putting his needs and desires ahead of her own, even when she knew it would mean her own death. But damn it, he didn't want her to die—couldn't allow her to die. He needed her alive. If he didn't have her by his side, how on earth was he supposed to reach his goals? Who else could protect him? And if he was going to be completely honest with himself, he didn't even want to make Fuhrer if it meant losing her. Really, his life didn't have any meaning without her in it.

At the same time, though, if he did perform the transmutation, he would become the fifth sacrifice and the country would be lost. Not to mention that he would never be able to face his lieutenant again—no way would she ever forgive him for going against the good of the country to save a single woman. She would rather die than have him lose everything, and he knew it, but that didn't make it any less painful.

His gaze bored into his lieutenant's, hoping for a more satisfactory answer than "let me die for the greater good." His thoughts were raging a mile a minute, swirling throughout his head, incomprehensible and wrought with agony. His stomach twisted painfully, and his heart pounded in his chest, resounding throughout his entire body. A tear formed at the corner of his eye—_don't let this be real_, he begged and pleaded, but with who or what, he didn't know. _Please, anyone but her. Take me, let me die. She doesn't deserve this…what did she do wrong? Save her, someone, please…don't let me lose her like this!_

In the midst of all this, Riza's eyes moved ever so slightly—so slightly, in fact, that Roy almost missed it in his turmoil. But suddenly, he felt a completely different emotion than the ones that had defined him just moments before.

Hope.


	5. Potatoes

**Because there is never enough young Roy and Riza in the world. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Potatoes<strong>

Riza was returning to her father's house with three bags of groceries, one of which contained only potatoes. Potatoes were versatile vegetables; they could go in or with virtually anything. Riza had been left in charge of the cooking ever since her mother passed away, and they were really the only thing her mother had taught her how to fix. Meals at the Hawkeye house weren't very original, but no one could say Riza didn't try to provide some creativity and nutrition every day.

Well, today had been just a terrible day for Riza. She had been teased at school yet again for her boyish looks as well as for being a "teacher's pet"; really, she just did her homework every night, and it wasn't her fault the teachers liked her because she was quiet and didn't disrupt class. When she had gone to the market, she had managed to trip over her own feet and drop everything she had been holding at the time, twisting her ankle painfully in the process. Of course, since she was the daughter of the strange alchemist, no one dared help her for fear of being associated with her family and having rumors spread about them, too. And on top of all that, she had had to walk home in the rain, overburdened by her groceries and throbbing ankle.

Needless to say, she really did not want to cook dinner tonight for the two ungrateful men in the house.

She had just slumped down in a kitchen chair when Roy appeared around the corner. "Oh, hey, Riza," he smiled as he walked behind her to rummage around in the grocery bags. "Potatoes again? Can't you fix anything else?"

Usually when Roy made a jab at her like this, she good-naturedly responded with a jab of her own. She knew he meant nothing by it, but today was…different. Turning around slowly, he was faced with Riza's death glare, a look that could make even the manliest of men quake in his boots. Roy's face grew pale as Riza slowly stood. "Mr. Mustang," she said slowly, emphasizing each syllable. Roy knew he was in trouble because Riza only called him that when she was angry or her father was around, and considering her father was currently in his study…Roy gulped. "I think you should be grateful that I make you dinner at all. Or maybe _you'd_ like to take on that particular responsibility?"

By now, Riza was standing right in front of his face, forcing his back to press uncomfortably into the counter behind him. Even though she stood almost a head shorter than he did, Roy knew he stood no chance against this girl in a fight, physical or verbal. In his defense, she_ did_ have a very commanding presence.

Roy gulped and swallowed in an attempt to clear his throat. "Um, actually, what I meant to say was, 'Great! You got potatoes again! I love those! And did I mention that you look absolutely lovely today?'" Riza's eyes narrowed as she backed off slightly, not quite ready to forgive him. She made a point of stepping on his bare foot as she walked around to the other side of the counter, smiling evilly as she saw him wince.

If Roy had learned one thing over all the years he had spent with his sisters, it was how to win back a lady's favor once it had been lost. "You know what, why don't I help you with supper tonight? I need a break from studying anyway. And you look like you could use a break, too. Why don't you relax for a little bit while I peel the potatoes?" He could have sworn that he almost saw her eyes soften and her lips twitch slightly, but then again, that could have just been a trick of the light.


	6. Rain

**I don't even know if I need to mention that yes, the disclaimer applies here as well.**

* * *

><p><strong>Rain<strong>

Roy sighed as he looked out the window at Central Command. It was raining again. The weather had turned sour three days ago, and the sun hadn't shown itself since. The ever-present clouds constantly seemed to be dropping rain or shooting lightning. He really wished they would just give up.

The sound of footsteps behind him caused him to turn around. In front of his desk stood Riza, armed with another stack of paperwork. "Sir, these need your approval by the end of the day."

"All right, Lieutenant." Roy sighed, defeated. No matter how long he stared outside, willing the weather to change, he couldn't escape the drudgery of the office. He glanced up in time to see his subordinate give him a small smile as she placed the stack of papers on his desk.

The gesture wasn't huge, but it did lighten his mood some. Leave it to Riza to be his sun when the real one refused to shine.


	7. Chocolate

**Life is better when one can make Roy a total dorkface. Standard disclaimer stuff (no lawsuits shall pass!).**

* * *

><p><strong>Chocolate<strong>

"What is this?" Riza stopped short in front of her desk, where a box of a dozen assorted chocolates lay. "Colonel, would you happen to know anything about this?"

Of course he did. "No, Lieutenant. It would appear that you have a secret admirer of sorts." Although his tone was serious, Roy's playful smile and the hint of mischief that shone in his eyes gave him away.

Riza smiled. Today was her birthday, but she hadn't told anyone at the office, hoping to avoid any awkward and embarrassing birthday wishes. She should have known that Roy would never forget the date. He had always made it a point to celebrate her birthday when they both lived at her father's house. Her Colonel may be a dork, but at least he was _her_ dork, even if he could only be her dork in the shadows of secrecy.


	8. Happiness

**Wedding day/night fluff! (nothing smutty, don't worry) Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Happiness<strong>

The whole day had been surreal for Roy Mustang. In fact, he never thought that it would be able to come to pass. But here he was, holding the most precious person in his life as she slept, her wedding dress lying forgotten on the floor. He lazily thought to himself that he should pick it up sometime and hang it properly in the closet. Riza had looked so beautiful in that dress…well, more beautiful than she usually did. Her eyes had shone with the same happiness that radiated off her entire being, and Roy supposed he had been no different. There had been the rush of congratulations from all the guests present and the blur of dining, drinking, and dancing. Actually, the entire ceremony had been a blur as well, time only slowing as he watched Riza walk down the aisle, escorted by her grandfather, and the destiny-sealing moment of saying "I do" and kissing her smiling lips. And finally, they had gotten to dance together. Roy found himself thinking that there really was nothing better than being able to parade around with the person he loved, no longer afraid of accidentally letting the world see those long-buried feelings. After so many years of secrecy, they were no longer bound as superior and subordinate, but rather as equals. And, Roy thought as he pulled Riza just a little bit closer to himself, he wouldn't have it any other way.


	9. Telephone

**A moment of silence for Maes Hughes, please. Okay, carry on. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Telephone<strong>

"Don't be ridiculous," Roy seethed, exasperated, into the phone.

"What?" Hughes asked in a playful tone. "Having a wife is so fantastic! You should try it. Come on, what are you waiting for?"

"Hughes," Roy brought his gloved fingers up to the receiver. "Have you ever wondered if flame alchemy can go through phone lines? I'm getting more and more curious by the second."

Hughes laughed. "Well, Roy, I think it's time we both got back to work. But promise me you'll at least try to find yourself a wife?"

Roy slammed the phone down without another word. "Colonel," a familiar female voice sounded beside him, "Please be careful with the phone." Roy sighed, slumping down in his chair. Didn't Maes get it? He already _had_ found someone he wanted to be his wife; he just couldn't act on it. Well…not yet, anyway. But someday, someday, he would. And the dream of one day having her by his side, no longer two steps behind him, gave him all the motivation he needed to move forward and accomplish his goals.


	10. Ears

**A little bit longer than most. Not sure if I'm completely happy with how it turned out. 1/5 of the way there! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Ears<strong>

It was Riza's fifteenth birthday, and she wanted something special. She had seen several other girls at her school do this, and it looked nice. Plus, it might help bring some femininity to her otherwise boyish looks and attitude.

Riza wanted her ears pierced.

Just one piercing in each, something she could fill with simple round studs or maybe even those fancy dangling earrings that people wore to formal functions. So, sanitized sewing needle in hand, Riza stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to visualize where the holes should be placed. Once she thought she had it, she gripped her earlobe and positioned the needle to go straight through. She took a deep breath, and—

There was a knock at the bathroom door, causing Riza to jump and gasp with surprise. "You almost done in there?" called a young man's voice, clearly Roy. "You've been in there for half an hour already, and I really, really need to pee."

Riza took a deep breath and leveled a threatening gaze at the door, hoping it showed up in her voice as well. "Why don't you just go outside? I'm not done yet." She turned back to the mirror, getting ready to position the needle again.

"Just let me in for one minute and I promise I'll be out of your way," Roy pleaded. "Seriously, if you don't open this door in ten seconds, I'm just coming in."

Curse these lockless doors. Rather than have Roy barge in, Riza moved the door open just enough to stick her head out. "I told you, I'm not done yet." Despite her threatening tone and attempts to physically block the doorway, Roy managed to open the door the rest of the way and get a look at what was on the counter. "What's all this?" he said with a smile.

Riza still stood in his way of the toilet, scowling. "It's none of your business."

Roy nodded and waved his hand in that nonchalant manner he had. "Right, right. Just let me use the bathroom." Somewhat convinced that Roy wouldn't make a big deal out of the supplies on the counter or, even worse, tell her father about it, Riza moved just outside the bathroom door. About a minute later, Roy reemerged, a knowing smirk on his face. "You know, if you wanted to get your ears pierced, there are better places to do it than the bathroom."

Riza decided to not even humor this with a response. Roy knew just as well as she did that there was no money for luxuries like getting her ears pierced professionally. She moved back into the bathroom and proceeded to close the door, only to find Roy standing in the way. "What?"

Roy grinned confidently. "I could help you with that. You never know, you might make the holes crooked."

"No, that's quite all right. I'll be fine on my own, _Roy_." Riza moved to push him out of the bathroom. Honestly, did her father's student always have to be so annoyingly self-assured? Roy dodged Riza's hands and pushed the door shut behind them both. Riza, determined to do this herself, picked up the needle and repositioned it next to her ear.

"That angle looks awkward," Roy's voice, unbidden, sounded next to Riza. "Maybe if you moved the needle a little bit that way"—here he grabbed the needle—"and pointed it more straight-on…" Riza let out a small yelp in surprise as Roy shoved the needle through her earlobe. "There. I think that looks better, don't you?"

Riza glared at him. "Excuse me, just what do you think you're doing?" She had been determined to pierce her own ears herself. She yanked the offending needle out of her ear and held a tissue up to catch the blood. Before she could say anything else, Roy was already lining the needle up to her other ear. "Roy, don't you dare—"

Another sharp poke, and Riza's second ear was pierced. Roy removed the needle and strode out of the bathroom confidently, almost smugly, saying, "Happy birthday, Riza. Now you've got two more holes in your head."

Her anger subsiding into something resembling playfulness, Riza ran after Roy, shouting, "And if you're not careful, I'll put some holes in _your_ head!" As Riza passed into another year of her life, she tackled her father's student in the backyard, slowly beginning to appreciate the spontaneity and color he brought to her drab home.


	11. Name

**Another attempt at quasi-angsty stuff...unsure about this one, but let me know. Disclaimer applies here as well (big surprise, I know).  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Name<strong>

The Hero of Ishval. That's what Roy Mustang was known as to most of the people in the country. He was nothing more than the alchemist who was skilled enough to take down hundreds of Ishvalans at once while remaining emotionally distant (oh, if only they knew how emotionally connected he really was).

It was only a name, but the connotations it carried with it were enormous—and painful. Every time he heard that name uttered, he was reminded of the dry desert air choked with smoke and the smell of human decay. He could still hear the sounds of small children crying, their anguish causing his throat to lump and his mouth to go dry.

His time in Ishval was not only the most terrible thing he had ever experienced, but it was also the most mortifying. Roy clearly remembered the day he discovered that his closest childhood friend was also partaking in the slaughter, presumably to follow his naïve dream. He felt so guilty for dragging her into this, yet…

It was only when she arrived that he began to see a light, that he began to think of coming out of the war alive. It was only then that he could picture a way to make sure this kind of genocide never happened again.

He supposed it was only fitting for a mass murderer: his greatest comfort in that terrible desert, that abhorrent war, could only come from the revelation of his worst nightmare.


	12. Sensual

**I guess I have this thing for young Roy and Riza. Who knew? Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sensual<strong>

Roy wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but for some reason, he and Riza had ended up in an unused room in her father's house, tongues gently (and somewhat tentatively) exploring each other's mouths.

Well, one thing was for sure: he certainly wasn't complaining.

He supposed it had started when he took a study break and headed toward the kitchen to make some tea. Riza had been cleaning the house, flitting around like a silent bird, making quick work of the dusting and sweeping. Roy often marveled at her efficiency, sometimes watching her from the shadows to figure out just how she was doing things so quickly. Perhaps if he applied the same techniques to his assignments…

Today had been no different. Roy spotted Riza in an unused room on his way to the kitchen, and just like always, he watched her for a little bit, trying to figure out the mystery that was more complicated than any reading Master Hawkeye could ever assign him: the mystery that was his master's daughter. He didn't think it was fair that someone could look so poised and—dare he think it?—beautiful while doing something as mundane as housework. Really, if he looked that handsome while puzzling over the latest alchemy array, girls would be flocking from near and far just for the chance to gaze at him. What _was_ it about this girl that was so mesmerizing, so—

"Is there a reason you're staring at me, or may I continue the housework in peace?" How did Riza get that close to him without his even noticing? Roy tried desperately to come up with a good reason for standing there and watching her, but there really was nothing he could say. He supposed that maybe it could seem kind of creepy.

He felt his face turn red as he spluttered, "Uh, I was just going to, uh, make some tea. And, um, I thought you might want some, too, so I came to ask you."

To his dismay, Riza did not look convinced. Instead, she smiled somewhat mischievously. "You know, I was just thinking that maybe I could take a quick break. Why don't you help me put these books back in order, then we'll have some tea?" Roy nodded dumbly and followed her back into the room. He was somewhat surprised when Riza closed the door behind them both. But the real shock came when she pushed him up against the wall with a smirk on her face. "Housework is boring, anyway," she said and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his.

It took Roy a moment to recover from the shock of his master's daughter's weight against him, _kissing_ him, close enough to him that he could place his arms around her. When he could finally think again, he tried to do what he felt would be natural in this kind of situation (he was way less experienced than he liked people to believe). He opened his mouth to hers, allowing her tongue to slide across his. They continued in this manner for a while, Roy finding it surprisingly quite pleasant, and soon he was so intoxicated with her taste and smell that he could hardly think anymore.

Finally, Riza pulled away. "Well, I think it's time to get back to work. You'd better get going on that tea." Roy was dumbfounded. How could she sound so _composed_? It wasn't fair. Roy didn't think he could form a coherent sentence right now even if he wanted to. But before he could utter a single word, Riza smirked at him and said, "That was nice, but your technique could really use some work. We'll have to keep practicing to help you improve." With that, she walked out of the room, broom and dustpan in hand, leaving Roy in something resembling a state of shock.


	13. Death

**And now for something completely different! Enjoy. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Death<strong>

Riza stood over the grave of her late husband after the funeral service, losing herself in the memories of their shared life. It seemed they had always been together: first at her father's house, then in Ishval, then in the military. After the Promised Day, they had headed back to Ishval together, and after many years, Roy had been made Fuhrer and Riza First Lady. Together, they had overseen the country's transition to a democracy, the people choosing to reelect Roy until he felt he was too old to continue. They had then retired to the countryside when they were in their 70s, happily surrounded by two children and numerous grandchildren. For as much pain as they had been through together, there was so much happiness for them both to have.

But Riza was 82 now. She had outlived many of her friends and was much older than the average lifespan of 73 years. And now, even though she was at peace with his death, she found herself missing Roy's constant presence. At least she had kept her promise: she had not died before he did.

Roy had been ready to die. He had known it was coming ever since the doctor found the tumor. It was unusual for people to survive such growths. But if Roy had been ready to die then, Riza thought she was even more ready to die now. Her life had always molded itself around his, and she knew he'd want her there with him wherever he was. She could not deny that she wanted the same thing. So that night, Riza went to sleep for the last time in the too-large bed meant for two.

Four days later, there was another funeral service. Two graves bearing the same last name gazed out over the countryside, looking as regal in death as the two occupants had looked in life. As Fuery walked by the graves on one of his routine visits, he swore he could almost hear the good-natured bantering that had defined the two during their lifetimes. Involuntarily, he smiled. Wherever they were, they were together.

And, really, he couldn't have asked for a happier ending for either of them.


	14. Sex

**This is the closest I will ever come to writing smut. You know, I'm almost ashamed at having written this. You have my permission to gouge your eyes out after you read this. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sex<strong>

Riza stood in the kitchen one morning, cooking eggs for her and Roy's breakfast. The early morning sun shone in a slant through the window, illuminating the small space. Everything was silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the sizzle of the eggs as they cooked.

Suddenly, a yawn sounded behind Riza, and a pair of arms slipped around her waist. "Mornin', Riza," Roy's voice sounded in her ear, lazy and slow.

Riza smiled. "It's about time you're up. Hope you're hungry." She scooped the eggs off the skillet and put them on two plates.

"Aw, you didn't have to do that," Roy said.

"Sir—I mean, Roy—you need to move so we can sit down and eat." Riza pulled against his arms, trying to break free without spilling the food. It was still awkward for her to address him by name, since they had only been married for a few months now. "Seriously, Roy, this is childish, even for you."

"I'm not really hungry, if you catch my drift." He pulled her even tighter against him and kissed her neck suggestively.

Riza sighed, clearly not impressed. "Shut up and eat your breakfast. I didn't stand here working while you were sleeping so that you could reject my meal." However, in spite of her words, she made no attempt to escape. Instead, she placed the plates back on the counter. She turned around in his arms and smiled evilly at him. "You're so needy."

Roy grinned, sensing a victory. "But that's why you love me, right?" He let go of her and started walking back toward the bedroom.

"Don't push your luck." Riza said, following him. They entered the bedroom, and Riza quickly stripped down.

"Hey now, that's not fair!" Roy protested. "That's supposed to be my job!" Riza shot him with a glare that immediately made him stop talking. She walked over to him and pushed him down on the bed, a malicious glint in her eyes.

"Stop complaining, Mr. Impatient. You are getting what you want, after all." Before he knew it, she was straddling his face, commanding, "Okay, since you're so eager, get to work." It wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but nevertheless, he gladly obliged.

* * *

><p><strong>Wait, put the spoon down! I didn't mean it! YOU NEED YOUR EYES!<strong>


	15. Touch

**Even more fluff! (I know, what a surprise...) Disclaimer applies. Updates will probably be slow from now on, as my spring break is coming to a close and I must slave away at college again.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Touch<strong>

Riza awoke screaming, tossed about in the throes of a nightmare about Ishval. Disoriented and confused, she tried to remember where she was—it certainly didn't feel like the desert. She was breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat. Her mind felt plagued, as if she had not slept for days. A voice sounded nearby, slightly pulling her out of her daze.

"Riza?" It was male and definitely familiar. Riza's senses continued to return to her as she looked over at the person next to her in the bed, her mind slowly processing his features as those of her lifetime companion and friend. "You were having a nightmare. Are you okay?"

Relief flooded through her entire being as she realized the only danger she had been in was long behind her, safely tucked away in the past. "Y-yes, I think I'll be all right." It was okay, she was safe now, nobody was looking to kill her or rape her or torture her for information…

A hand lightly touched her shoulder, pulling her out of her reverie. "You sure?" Roy's voice appeared softly by her ear, concerned. Riza turned to look at her husband and smiled ever so slightly. What could she say? The softest, most minute touch from him never failed to make her disjointed world whole again, like she was finally out of the reach of her demons and dark past. After receiving a brief kiss from Roy, Riza settled into his arms and drifted off to sleep quickly, no longer fearing the monsters in her memories.


	16. Weakness

**I don't know if I was trying to be philosophical here or what. A little bit different style than normal. Let me know what you think of it, if you feel so inclined. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Weakness<strong>

It was one thing to love a man, but it was completely another to have him be your most important reason for living. Riza had always prided herself on her independence, and she was sure that if fate had never intertwined her life with Roy Mustang's, she would have lived her life away from the buzz of people and cities, most likely safely tucked away in the town she grew up in. It was a common fate for women of that particular town to end up marrying their sweethearts from high school and living their lives out not far from where they were born. In a sense, Riza was glad to have escaped that mundane and uneventful life. She hadn't bonded well with her peers at school, and there were really no lines of work open to her in her town that particularly interested her. She would be damned if she had to rely on a man to make money to support her—after living so long with an almost-absent father and an alchemy student who was virtually clueless about life skills, Riza had gotten used to having control over her own life—and she rather liked having that control. She certainly wouldn't give it up without a fight.

And yet, she had given her trust and her life so completely to the idealistic dreams of one man. It was strange that her continued independence could only come from her complete dependence on that man's plans for the future. Ironic, perhaps, but there was really no other life path that made sense to her—not then, and certainly not now, not after what she had gone through in Ishval.

But when had that strive to create a better nation turned into a desperate struggle to love him from a distance? When had her devotion to his ideals turned into a devotion to him? When had he become her weakest link, the one thing that could build her up or destroy her completely?

Perhaps it had always been there and had just needed the trials of the Ishvalan desert to push it to the surface. Or perhaps it developed over time as he became a constant in her life. Or maybe, just maybe, when she had decided to devote her life to his dream, she had really been completely and irrevocably devoting her life to him without ever being conscious of that particular decision.

Riza supposed it didn't matter. Her life was tough, but it was rewarding, and she would not rest until all of his (and her) dreams had been accomplished. Every last one.

Even the ones that remained unspoken, the ones that kept her grounded and focused on the future, the ones that gave her a reason to live.


	17. Tears

**Disclaimer applies. I realize that is a huge surprise. :P**

* * *

><p><strong>Tears<strong>

There had been no shortage of tears at Maes Hughes' funeral. Riza, knowing how tough this sudden loss had been on the Colonel, kept a close eye on him during and after the service. She knew that he was level-headed, but she also knew how much his friends meant to him. She didn't want him to do anything that he would regret later. Her concern was understandable when she found that Roy shed no tears during the funeral service. The last thing he needed to do was bottle up his emotions and do something stupid later because of it.

So she found him after the funeral, standing in front of the grave of his best friend. After exchanging a few words, Roy claimed that it was beginning to rain. Riza decided to play along with his flimsy excuse for crying so that he would finally let his tears flow. It was probably the healthiest thing he could do right now. Seeing this impossibly strong man, who was usually defined by his bravado, cry had been a painful experience for Riza, but she knew it was for the best.

After a few minutes, they headed back to Riza's car so she could drive Roy home. They were silent the entire way back until they pulled in front of his apartment. Turning the car off, Riza looked at Roy tentatively, almost afraid of what she might find in his eyes. "Will you be all right, sir?" she spoke softly, gently, letting him know that he could share whatever pain he had with her. She would carry some of the burden for him if it meant he would heal.

Roy did not speak. Instead, he moved to get out of the car, never once looking at Riza or even bothering to acknowledge her presence. Riza placed a hand on his arm, causing him to pause. "Is there anything I can do?" her voice was barely above a whisper. "Please, sir, Colonel, Roy, whatever the hell I'm supposed to call you…don't lose yourself to this. Don't give into despair. It's not what this nation needs."

Roy still made no response. He had become completely immobile, frozen in place in the car. This kind of reaction was dangerous for Roy. He was a doer, always mobile, but now it seemed that he had lost any and all motivation to continue forward. If she didn't act quickly, she just might lose him to his unspoken despair. "Roy, look at me. Maes…he wouldn't want you to be sad." Still no response. "Damn it, Roy Mustang, talk to me!" She shook his arm with a ferocity that surprised even herself. But she couldn't lose him to this. Not now. Not after everything they had done to right the past, not after every goal they had set for the future, not after she had given her entire _life_ to this person—

An eternity later, Roy turned his head toward the Lieutenant. "I-I'm so sorry…" he whispered, eyes still downcast. Relief flooded through Riza's body. She had finally gotten through to him. She moved her hand away from his arm, wary of anyone that might be looking inside the car. To her surprise, Roy chased after her hand with his own and gripped it tightly. "I'll do better…for this nation." At long last, he made eye contact with Riza. "For you. For him…" His head dropped again and silent sobs racked his body. He moved closer to her, clutching her in his arms as if she were his lifeline, as if she were his only hope for survival. It was like some sort of animal instinct had taken over Roy's normal, rational self as he was reduced to a naked bundle of need, dreading and yet yearning the contact of another human being, longing for some source of comfort. After a few moments, his senses returned to him and he whispered an apology. With no other words, he exited the vehicle and walked somberly to his apartment door.

As she watched him depart, Riza discovered for the first time how it felt for a heart to shatter—not to break cleanly into a million little pieces like it had in Ishval, but to completely shatter into dust: jagged edges grinding smaller and smaller until they could no longer stick together and blew away to the far corners of the earth, dragged along by the wind.

For every day the next week, Riza had flowers delivered to his apartment, a different kind each day. And for every day the next week, Roy offered her a smile every morning at the office, letting her know that he was okay, he would be fine.

At long last, Riza's scattered dust began to settle, melded back to its original form by the warmth she felt returning to her core.


	18. Speed

**DRUGS! Don't do them. Ever. Too many people's lives have been messed up by them. But enjoy my analogy anyway. :) Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Speed<strong>

Speed: a street name for amphetamine, a type of drug that, when used, increases the body's activity, resulting in a burst in alertness, concentration, dizziness, and insomnia.

Roy often wondered if Riza was really a drug in human form. Every time he was with her, he suddenly found himself more awake, more able to concentrate (albeit not always on what he needed to be concentrating—it wasn't his fault that she was so damned beautiful), and, when she got too close to him and he could smell her scent (gunpowder and perfume and something unidentifiable that was so undeniably _Riza_), he got a little bit dizzy.

And just like a drug, Roy was totally and completely addicted to her. She represented everything he valued in his life: kindness, forgiveness, self-control, determination, willingness to sacrifice, safety, security, and a sense of purpose. He couldn't possibly give her up, even if he tried. There had been a point, when Bradley was still Fuhrer, when she had been forcibly taken from him, and he had had to quit her cold turkey. Roy didn't think there had been anything quite as painful as that, except losing Hughes—after all, he had known that Riza was still alive.

But he had eventually gotten her back, and now her pull on him was even stronger than it had been before. Now, as she slept close to him in their bed (_their_ bed—it was so nice to finally have things they could openly share and call _their_ own), he found himself unable to sleep because he was just so excited to have her here with him, finally, after so long.

Roy didn't think he could quit Riza, but that was okay because she was so, so _good_ for him, always keeping him in line and making sure he didn't miss any of his responsibilities or overstep his boundaries as a leader. But sometimes, he just wanted to say "screw work" and spend his entire day getting high off of Riza, the most dangerously addictive, yet most necessary, drug he would ever need.


	19. Wind

**I finally found a short break from all my work to upload a few more themes. Yay!**

**How strange. I wrote this in the present tense. Disclaimer applies. Warning: beware of unnecessary fluffiness.**

* * *

><p><strong>Wind<strong>

There is so much freedom and randomness in the wind. It blows however it so chooses, first one way and then the next, bringing with it a pleasant warm breeze or gusts that cause trees to tumble and old houses to break apart. But perhaps the most interesting thing about the wind is the way it caresses Riza's hair, tossing it about with abandon and showering golden rays of light upon the eyes of those lucky enough to behold the sight.

Roy often finds himself speculating on the way Riza's hair blows in the light breeze whenever they go for late afternoon walks in the courtyard of the presidential estate. Their work day is over, meaning Riza finally lets her hair down from the strict, no-nonsense up-do that defines her professional life and lets her softer, more caring side show. Roy relishes the way her hair moves, imagining the feel of it between his fingers: soft, thick, and incredibly smooth.

They pause underneath the shade of an apple tree, listening to the chirping of the birds around them and the scuttle of woodland creatures searching for food through the bushes. The sun is sinking in the sky, making Riza's hair look all the more delightful for the way the color of the sun matches its shade, bordered by soft pinks and reds and oranges.

Riza notices Roy's staring and looks at him questioningly. Before she can say anything, he takes hold of a chunk of her hair, running his fingers through it softly and playing gently with the slightly uneven ends. After a few moments, he moves his gaze to meet hers, relishing in the color contrast between the bright golden shade of her hair and the deep brown of her eyes, a color that drags him deeper and deeper into her until he thinks he might drown. Eventually, his hands drop from her hair and resettle themselves about her waist, pulling her close to him as his lips claim hers. Riza wraps her arms around him as she returns his affection, reveling in the texture of his mouth, inside and out, and the feeling of safety she has in his arms (strange; she was always the one who protected him).

In the distance, well out of the notice of the two lovers, the sun shines its brilliant colors for the last time that day, and the wind slowly dies down, ushering in the silence and intimacy which the night inherently brings.


	20. Freedom

**More fluff! Seriously, do I ever write anything else? Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Freedom<strong>

There had always been one place where Riza could go to be free from her father's house and all the burdens it carried with it. There had always been one place where she could be safe from the reality that was her world, the reality that, at fourteen, she was the one responsible for making sure there was food in the house, that the bills got paid, that the house stayed relatively clean, and that her father's student stayed out of trouble (he had this annoying knack for coming up with all sorts of terrible ideas). She often went out to her secret place in the woods near her house—a small clearing with a large rock in the middle where she could listen to the stream nearby and the chirping of the birds overhead—and reflected on what she was going to do as soon as she was able to leave her father's house.

Roy had followed her one day (she had pretended not to notice, but few things escaped her sharp eyes). At first, she was annoyed by his constant chatter, always going off about how brilliant her father was and what a great teacher he was, even if he was really strict…on and on and on until Riza thought she would throw up. If her father was really so great, why did he neglect her to such a degree? Why did he never let his only family know that maybe she was in his thoughts once or twice a day?

It wasn't long before Roy noticed that Riza's father was not her favorite topic of conversation. So instead, he started to talk about his plans for the future and his views on life. It was only after these first few tentative conversations that Riza began to enjoy Roy's company in the clearing. Sometimes they would talk about trivial things, sometimes they would discuss philosophy, and sometimes they would just sit in silence and appreciate the world around them. Riza strongly preferred the silences, for as much of a connection as she felt to him while they were conversing, she felt an even stronger one just sitting together and existing side-by-side.

Sometimes, when the nights struck her with an unbearable amount of loneliness as she lay sleeplessly in her bed in her military apartment, she looked back on those pleasant times in her childhood and transported herself into that one time in her life when she had actually been free, when no laws had restricted her from seeing the one person who meant more to her than anything else in this world.


	21. Life

**I feel like this is bordering on cheesy. Actually, it's not just bordering on cheese, it's dripping in cheesy fluff sauce. Read at your own risk. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Life<strong>

They had finally been handed down something other than pain for once. Finally, they had been blessed by the mysterious force known as life, so blessed that neither of them dared to believe it was real. Riza looked down at the new gold band that adorned her finger, marveling at how someone like her had ever been allowed to adorn herself with a symbol of such happiness. Roy, she suspected, felt much the same, judging by the way he alternately looked at her and then to his hand, back and forth again until Riza could not contain her chuckles.

"What's so funny?" he asked, somewhat defensively.

"Oh, it's nothing, really," Riza smiled at her new husband (what a strange word—she had never thought she would have ever been privileged enough to use it during her lifetime). "I just never knew that gold held such a fascination for you."

Roy paused, a soft blush growing on his cheeks slowly. "Gold has always been a source of fascination for me." He reached over and ran his fingers through her hair once, then leaned over to kiss her gently. Riza smiled at him and caught his hand as it fell from her hair, entwining her fingers with his.

"Alchemists," she smirked at him before making her tone more business-like. "Well, we can't reminisce all night, Fuhrer. Eventually, we do need to get some business taken care of." She tugged him not-so-subtly toward the bedroom—there were traditions to keep, after all. Roy was only too happy to follow her lead.


	22. Jealousy

**One of my favorites to write thus far. Enjoy! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Jealousy<strong>

Roy knew that Riza loved another male. That male walked with her to the office every morning and went home with her at night. He slept in her apartment, perhaps in her bed if she was feeling gracious. They ate together, trained together, and went on walks together. Roy had even witnessed them cuddling together. Everything that guy did was for Riza, and he did everything he could to make her feel loved and safe. He did his best to protect her, even though he wasn't very intimidating. He made her happy and was a source of companionship for her, so Roy couldn't really hate the guy. Really, this guy was great for her, and Roy reluctantly trusted him with his subordinate's happiness and life, when really he wanted to be the one that did all those things for and with her. But there were no laws that restricted _their_ love.

It wasn't the guy that Roy hated: it was knowing that he was envious of the life of a dog.


	23. Hands

**Trying something a little bit different here. Let me know if it is to your liking. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Hands<strong>

A line there, a bump there, a callous there. An entire plane filled with hills and valleys, imperfections that would never go away. There could easily be a river flowing down a line on her palm, bordered by trees and illuminated by a perfect golden sunset. And there, there, in the space between her fingers, could be a beach, soft sand and salty water flowing between fingers and toes. That particular callous could be a city, full of bustling people and buildings, each with their own story to share. On each knuckle, cracked slightly from the dry winter weather, could be a desert, filled with the memories of Ishval and the promises for new beginnings. Closer to her wrist, where her skin became softer and smoother, could be the beautiful plains of the west, where prairie grass and wheat swayed softly in the breeze, singing silently in that strange way nature has. So many stories were laid out in Riza's hands, stories of places she had been and places she only dreamed of going, but each mark, every little indentation and hill and valley and river and stream and ocean and plain and blade of grass and grain of sand, held its own intense and unspeakable beauty.

And to think that Riza wondered how Roy could spend hours just staring at her hands.


	24. Taste

**I give you some sadness. Well, at least it's something that's not fluff for once. XD Enjoy if you can. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Taste<strong>

If ever there were a painful moment, it would be seeing Riza Hawkeye cry. The fact that she looked so beautiful whilst sobbing made it even more unbearable to watch. She also did little to hide the fact that she was crying, and her sobs, although she usually tried to muffle them somewhat, always came out loudly and obviously filled with pain. If her cries could be compared to anything, they would most closely resemble the sound angels made when they fell from heaven—a raw sound that was so painful to listen to, yet so beautiful, that one could not bear to quit listening.

It was just this sort of moment that Roy had found himself in after he woke up in the middle of the night and found her side of the bed to be empty. As he looked around, he saw light seeping out underneath the bathroom door. Normally, he would have thought nothing of this: people went to the bathroom in the middle of the night all the time. But as he lay on the bed, he noticed that he could hear heart-wrenching sobs coming from the bathroom. Now _that_, he would admit, was weird...and actually very concerning. Riza hardly ever cried, so when she did, it was for a good reason. Moved by her painful sounds and desperately wanting to comfort her, Roy walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door, determined to sound composed for her sake, although he was quite rattled by her unusual display of emotions.

"Riza?" he called softly. "Can I come in?" There was a scrabbling sound on the floor inside the bathroom, and Roy swore he could hear her trying to slow her breathing and stop her cries. Roy gave her about a minute before he knocked again. "Riza, are you listening? I'm going to come in now."

He slowly opened the door, thankful that he hadn't gotten around to installing the lock on it yet, and what met his gaze startled him. _Why was there so much blood_? Abandoning all hopes of acting calm to help quell her anxieties, he dashed over to where she was leaning against the bathtub, tears still openly flowing down her cheeks. He knelt down in front of her, gripping her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "What happened? Are you okay, Riza?"

Riza's head dropped from his face, and she slowly shook her head. She opened her mouth, trying to form words, but only more sobs emerged. Roy shifted himself so that he was sitting next to her, pulling her close to him with one arm and pushing her hair out of her face with his other hand. Finally, Riza gained enough to composure to whisper, "Roy, I…I—" she took a deep, staggering breath, and Roy stroked her shoulder with his thumb to reassure her and encourage her to continue. "I miscarried."

The revelation hit Roy like a ton of bricks. Riza had been pregnant for almost two months, and he had been looking forward to having a child. But this was devastating. At Riza's age, it was difficult to conceive, so he had thought them fortunate to have made a child at all, and he would have been glad even if it had been their only one. The chances of her conceiving again were getting smaller every day, and he knew how badly she also wanted a child—even more than he did.

Despite Roy's initial intentions of being a place of solid ground on which Riza could regain her footing, he found himself crying right alongside her, their tears mixing together and soaking into each other's pajamas. Roy's heart broke for the sake of their little dead child who didn't even get a chance at life, then ground into dust when Riza started mumbling, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over again, as if this had been _her_ fault, _her_ decision. A defeated, wretched part of him couldn't help but think that it was only too appropriate for them to lose their child, considering the number of children's lives they had taken. It was an appropriate punishment for monsters such as themselves.

Pushing such thoughts out of his mind, Roy tried unsuccessfully to quiet Riza, his heart pulling at him in a way he didn't know was possible. Finally, he went for the most consistently successful way of shushing her. He took her chin gently in his hand and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, letting her know that he wasn't angry at her—he didn't blame her for this—and he tasted the tears that had run into her mouth.

It was strange, though, he now thought, how the tears of monsters could be just as salty as the tears of any other human. Perhaps then they weren't really abominations after all, for if their tears were composed of the same materials as other humans', surely they couldn't be that monstrous, despite all the atrocities they had committed. Surely they were still human, somehow. Misguided at one time, perhaps, but still human…

And just like any other human, Roy was sure that they would pull through this together and strengthen themselves—they had always pushed through tragedies before. And, as the homunculi noted, humans had this strange (and to them, annoying) tendency to always get back on their feet, even when moving forward seemed impossible, as it did after Ishval and as it did now. And Roy and Riza, although they may have stumbled many times in their lives, never completely fell down: after all, they could always rely on each other to catch them every time they faltered.


	25. Devotion

**I bring you a couple more themes that I wrote during my study break (organic chemistry is eating my soul...no big deal). XD Halfway done! Thanks to everyone who's been reading along faithfully! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Devotion<strong>

If Fuery were to describe his commanding officer and the first lieutenant's relationship, he would say it was comprised primarily of devotion. Never before in his life had he seen two people so determined to fulfill each other's hopes and dreams. He supposed the description applied more to Riza than to Roy, as she had pretty much given her entire life to him, but Roy's reciprocated actions did not slip by his notice. Of course, he gave some form of devotion to everyone who was a part of his team, but Fuery noticed that he had a special kind of dedication that he gave only to Riza.

Riza's dedication was very obvious: she was always doing him favors at the office such as taking stacks of his paperwork and fetching him coffee, she drove him home when he was too tired to walk, she ran errands for him, and she always made sure that he was on schedule and that he kept his head mostly grounded in reality. Roy's form of dedication was, however, decidedly more subtle: he would let Riza go home early if she had a rough day, he would take Hayate for walks if she was angry at him for blowing off work or was more exhausted than usual, and he always gave her a small smile at the beginning and end of every day after his "good morning, Lieutenant" and "have a good night, Lieutenant", small gestures that always made her seem more relaxed. Rumor had it that he even sent her flowers on occasion, although Riza would always claim that they came from an anonymous source. Like that fooled anyone (well, okay, maybe it fooled Havoc, but he wasn't exactly the sharpest guy Fuery had ever met).

What existed between the two soldiers permeated every second of every working day, but the team had long since learned how to deal with it. If anything, it actually helped them to complete their tasks and do their best to get along (even if they had all just lost half of their next paychecks to Falman over some stupid bet). Roy and Riza had the kind of determination and teamwork that anyone could admire, the kind of devotion to one another that was said to only exist in fairy tales and bedtime stories. Fuery's life was far from a fairy tale, but he had to admit that he wouldn't mind having his colonel and first lieutenant be his king and queen someday (and after everything they had sacrificed for each other, he thought that they at least deserved that quiet happiness).


	26. Forever

**I just love the feeling that I am over halfway done. Guess what? There's more fluff here. BIG surprise, I know. Enjoy! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Forever<strong>

Slow music poured light, yet serious, tones around Roy and Riza as they danced the first careful and tear-evoking dance at their wedding. They moved in small circles, careful not to step on each other's feet or trip at such an inopportune moment. Riza relished the feeling of her former commanding officer's firm (yet somehow gentle, always gentle with her) arms around her waist, pulling her close to him (but not too close—they were in public, after all, with hundreds of eyes watching them—it wasn't every day that the Fuhrer got married), close enough that she could see the softness in his eyes, feel the warmth rushing off of him, see his face (really and truly _see_ his face—after so many years of walking behind him, she could finally memorize every contour of the front side of his body instead of his back, clad underneath a stiff blue uniform) and notice how his hair was coming out of its perfectly gelled state and brushing rebelliously against his forehead. For the first time in so many years, Riza finally felt truly content. They had reached their goals and were working on making Amestris a democracy. The land was as peaceful as it had ever been, and finally they had been able to find their own personal peace: peace in each other's arms, no longer out of reach. Riza wished this moment of pure, unadulterated joy could last forever: the hushed murmurs of a nearly silent crowd that let her almost forget that they were even there, the soft music perfectly framing the setting sun's bold pink and yellow shades, but mostly the knowledge that she could finally spend her personal life with the person most important to her, never again banished to an empty apartment and a cold bed at the end of the working day. She would never have to let go of him again. And so, Riza smiled as their song came to a subtle end much, much too soon, Roy pulling her in for a short kiss while the crowd clapped (and was that Havoc she saw collecting a pile of money from the rest of their team at the head table…?).

In the distance, the sun sank into the horizon, its last light beaming the promise of a new dawn and even brighter days ahead.


	27. Blood

**I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaack! I have emerged for a few hours from the endless workload that is my college life to bring you a couple more themes. They're certainly not my best writing, but I felt that I should post something anyway. Do enjoy them. Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Blood<strong>

It's been exactly six months since Riza has been deployed in Ishval. She was told that she would become accustomed to killing, but every shot she fires still leaves a painful echo in her chest. It was not long ago that she was in the military academy, hoping to follow her childhood friend's dreams and make the country a better place. Not long after she realized what the military was truly like (she really was expendable; her life meant less than nothing to the higher-ups), she had found that very same childhood friend on the battlefield—saved his life, actually (the first of many times, but she had no way of knowing that yet). She had always done her best to only kill when it was necessary to save a comrade's life, but she soon abandoned that practice when she learned that those she didn't kill would be killed by others, probably in more painful ways. At least her shots were accurate and finished the job quickly.

Riza was a rational creature, but that didn't mean that rationalizing the killing made the blood she spilled any easier to live with. The days relived themselves in her nightmares, and she prayed for the suffering to end (never mind that she didn't believe in a god; sometimes even the most controlled and logical creatures need to hand the reins over to a higher power for some sense of comfort—after all, it's easy to blame someone else).

But, in spite of her pleas, her reality did not change: she fired another bullet, took another life, and received another gut-wrenching twist of sorrow and disgust. It was all she knew. And yet, for all her suffering, not one good reason presented itself for the war. As far she could tell, it was all she and Roy had ever suspected it to be: a mindless killing, a genocide of the worst proportions.

(Distantly, vaguely, she wondered that if a god really did exist—be it Ishvala or the multiple deities of the east or the animistic spirits of the west—would it be willing to forgive her for the crimes she committed, the innocent blood she spilled? She hoped it wouldn't—after all her time in Roy's presence, the principle of equivalent exchange had stuck in her mind. At this point, forgiveness was not a fair option for either of them. She just hoped that if they should both suffer unending punishment for their actions, as the Ishvalans claimed, she would at least be afforded the comfort of having him next to her as they burned.)


	28. Sickness

**The second update of the day! Woot woot! Fluffier than the last, but the fluff really shouldn't be a surprise by now. XD Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sickness<strong>

The sun was just coming up over the horizon, its light starting to frame the tall buildings of Central. Birds and other animals were beginning to come to life, and the sounds of early morning insects echoed throughout the city's streets. Slowly, the city began to rise, and the music of the movements of thousands of humans poured into the air, signaling the beginning of a new day.

The morning would have been so peaceful, so beautiful, Roy laments, if only his wife hadn't been throwing up for most of it.

He's currently kneeling next to her in the bathroom, holding her hair back from her face and trying to comfort her with soothing words as she retches over the toilet. He rubs her back softly, although he supposes it probably seems quite frantic, hoping with all his being that her suffering will end soon. He has always been told that having a child is a wonderful thing, but he fails to see how this much pain can be wonderful. The kid hasn't even been born yet, but he's already causing his mother trouble. Wasn't this kind of thing supposed to wait until the kid was in his teens or something? Roy obviously loves their child, but that doesn't mean that there aren't times when he wants to strangle him for causing Riza so much suffering.

Finally, Riza stills and sits back on her heels, holding her protruding stomach. Roy breathes a sigh of relief, glad that her sickness is finally over. If she's lucky, it will be her only one for the day. After a few minutes, he helps her to stand, and they walk into the kitchen together. Roy opens the blinds on the windows and starts making some tea to help soothe Riza's stomach.

The sun is now higher in the sky, and the city noises are starting to become prominent enough that they are now seeping into the house. The familiar slap of the morning paper outside the door heralds the start of a day filled with work and obligations. Roy sighs; the world has this funny way of always moving as if nothing ever happens, as if this morning has not been disturbed. He finishes fixing the tea and hands a mug to Riza. She smiles.

Screw the dawning of the new day; her smile is the most beautiful thing he's seen all morning.


	29. Melody

**I bring you finals-procrastination writing. XD Because I obviously have nothing better to do than write when I should be studying. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Melody<strong>

Roy, at seventeen years of age, had long discarded childhood beliefs in fairies and magic. He now proudly grounded his mind in the adult version of reality. His alchemy training had taught him how to think rationally, like a scientist. He placed his faith in reason, firmly believing that everything had a logical explanation.

Except for the mysterious song that flowed through the old Hawkeye manor every day at the same time.

It was a truly beautiful song: it was light enough to float perfectly on the wind, but it also contained enough darkness to have a deeper meaning. It was, in a word, mesmerizing.

The song always wrapped the house up in its warm tones about the same time every evening. Supper would be completed, the dishes would be put away, and Roy would sit in his room, focusing on his assignments. Like clockwork, as soon as Roy had opened his alchemy book and begun to read, the song would envelop him in its intoxicating tones. Every time, he felt that he could no longer concentrate. He needed to figure out what the source of the music was. So every day, he would wander out of his room and try to follow the sound to its origin, but it always seemed to stop before he could really figure anything out.

It took him a couple of days, but he finally found that the noise stopped when he got close to Riza's room. _Could she be…?_ Roy wondered to himself, then laughed. His master's daughter was a quiet individual who was not prone to making more noise than absolutely necessary. So she certainly couldn't be the one singing. Well, that's what Roy wanted to believe, but no other source made sense. It couldn't be the neighbors (too far away), couldn't be his master (like he would ever sing, and if he did, it would probably sound horrible), and it couldn't be a gramophone (they didn't own one). So his rational mind convinced him that Riza had to be the source of the music.

Roy developed a plan to catch her in the act, although he wasn't sure why he wanted to. Maybe he wanted to convince himself that he was right, or maybe he wanted to catch _Riza_ in an embarrassing act for a change, instead of the other way around…but he supposed the reason didn't really matter. He wanted to catch her, so he would. He took off his shoes to stop any unnecessary footstep noises and made a painstakingly careful route to avoid all the creaky floorboards. With his path planned, he patiently waited until the song started up later that day. Following all of his preparations the best he could, he managed to sneak up, unnoticed, to Riza's door. He pushed it open slightly, peering inside…

Roy blushed deeply, his heart twisting painfully and his jaw dropping. A gasp might have escaped him. Quickly, he slammed the door and ran back to his room. Not surprisingly, the music stopped (Riza was, in fact, the one singing). He had seen something no mere mortal eyes should ever see: Riza Hawkeye getting undressed for her nightly shower. She had been clad in no more than her panties and bra, exposing more skin than Roy had ever seen from a girl who was not his sister. Roy had not looked at her for very long, but he had noticed that her thighs were _incredible_—so well-toned and smooth, perfectly proportioned to her small waist and miniature curves…Roy quickly shoved such thoughts from his mind. This was his teacher's daughter, the one person he was strictly forbidden from thinking of in that way…he groaned. There was no way he was going to get Master Hawkeye's assignment done tonight, not after _that _sensory overload. With a long sigh, he fell back on his bed, hoping that Riza would just forget about the encounter or be too embarrassed to hold him accountable for it.

Later that night, as Roy began to drift off to sleep, he found himself thinking that maybe magic did exist after all and had manifested all its powers in his master's daughter. Riza's voice was hauntingly beautiful, reminding him of the ancient stories of sirens whose songs doomed sailors, her body was just…well, goddess-like, and, by some miracle, she hadn't come to his room to kill him yet…so maybe not everything in the world had to have a rational explanation. Riza just might be the one exception.


	30. Star

**My finals are done! Yay! So now I bring you updates. XD Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Star<strong>

Riza stared outside her apartment window, the light from the streetlamps and moon pouring into her bedroom. The city was so lifeless at this time of night, bringing out only the undead drunkards who were finally reemerging after the previous night's infusion, craving nothing more than the sweet call of their addiction. She vaguely wondered if Roy was safe, then pushed such thoughts from her mind—there was nothing she could do about it now, anyway, not after Fuhrer Bradley had essentially made her his hostage. Riza's eyes eventually found their way up to the heavens, where only a few stars were visible. That was one thing that Riza missed about living in the countryside: out there, no light pollution blocked the celestial beauties from shining their rays of hope onto the dark land. She had heard stories of people pinning their dreams on one of these bright miracles in the sky, believing that anything they longed for would be brought to them. Riza, having been around alchemists her entire life, did not believe in such fantasies about the cosmos controlling the lives of those on the earth. Instead, she stared at the brightest star, wondering if other planets existed other than her own, and if they did, if they were as messed up as the one she was on now. (On those planets, were people forced to kill each other? Were they separated from their loved ones to prove a political point? Could it be possible that other forms of life lived in harmony with one another? Did she dare even wonder about such a blissful existence?)

Unbeknownst to Riza, there was another person on the other side of the city staring at the exact same star. The only difference was that this man was allowing himself one more childish wish upon a star, foolish though he knew the idea to be. He fervently wished for his all of his subordinates' safeties, especially the one who was closest to the enemy, the one whom he loved with all his heart (the kind of passionate love and devotion that he couldn't even keep hidden from his enemies). He knew such wishes were fruitless, but he had to try—after all, what kind of commanding officer was he if he didn't put forth every effort to keep his subordinates safe? What kind of man?

Across the city, two people who longed for each other's security found some distant comfort in a shining point of light in the sky. They didn't know they were connected in such a manner, but they did notice the soothing warmth that seeped slowly into their cores—the strange feeling that everything would work out in the end. Riza slowly shook her head as she crawled into bed: if she could be afforded some comfort just by looking at a flaming ball of gas millions of miles away, then maybe stars did hold some kind of magic powers after all.


	31. Home

**I think this may be one of the only things I have written that didn't want to drag itself out for far too long. XD Do enjoy it! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Home<strong>

Roy and Riza were just returning from their nightly walk with Hayate, the light from the presidential estate seeping out onto the outer grounds. Riza smiled softly, squeezing her husband's hand; he looked at her and smiled in turn as he gave her a gentle squeeze back. They were so fortunate, Riza thought, that after so many years of denial and separation, they were finally able to have a common place that they could both call home.


	32. Confusion

**Written from Hayate's perspective purely for my own amusement. And because I can never let Roy and Riza get too far without interrupting them (I'm kind of evil that way). I hope you find this amusing as well. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Confusion<strong>

Black Hayate liked his new home. It was spacious, unlike his master's old apartment. They also seemed to be the only ones inhabiting it, which meant that there were fewer people to protect his master from. Hayate wasn't sure why they had moved to a bigger place, but he was glad: his master had seemed a lot happier ever since the move. Also, the black-haired man was around a lot more often, which Hayate was happy about: that man always seemed to lift his master's mood (and he always gave him the best treats). When Hayate had been petted the other day, he had noticed a band of gold on his master's finger that hadn't been there before. He wasn't sure what it meant, but if it was part of the reason for his master's happiness, then he was grateful for its existence.

But there was one thing Hayate didn't like since they had moved into the new place: he wasn't allowed to sleep in his master's bedroom much at all anymore. Hayate wasn't sure why—his master had said he was being a good boy, so he certainly didn't do something wrong that would deserve such a lonely punishment, right?

Hayate decided that he was going to take matters into his own paws and find out why he was being left alone at night in such a big place (it didn't seem scary during the day, but at night, long shadows poked out from behind corners and spooked even him, the dog who had not backed away from Barry the Chopper or even Gluttony, the rabid homunculus). He wandered up to the door of his master's bedroom, listening intently and hoping to find a reason for his exile.

After a few moments, Hayate became even more confused. Coming from his master's bedroom were strange, alien noises that he had never heard his master make before. In fact, his master had never been very vocal—could this be her way of crying out for help? What was the black-haired man _doing_ to her? Hayate knew that he could not fail in his duty: he needed to protect his master from any and all threats, no matter how large and intimidating his opponent may be.

Hayate set his nails at that door and scratched heavily, growling and barking. He snarled and beat his paws against the unyielding wood, noting that the noises from inside had died down. Good, that must mean the black-haired man was scared enough to stop hurting his master! Hayate kept up his antics, determined to be let into the room and be able to assess his master's safety for himself. A few moments later, his master opened up the door, clad in nothing more than the man's button-down shirt (Hayate noted that all the buttons were undone and that her hair was sticking up in odd places…just what had been going on here?). "Hayate? What's up, boy?" Upon seeing his master's relative state of undress, Hayate burst into the room, standing defensively between her and the black-haired man, hackles raised. The man, looking rather annoyed as he finished tying the strings on his pajama pants, raised his hands innocently and asked, "What did I do this time?"

Hayate heard his master chuckle behind him. "I think this little guy's jealous of you," she smirked. "I've been spending all my nights with you, after all." Hayate turned around to face his master, relaxing slightly as he saw her smile. "Sorry, boy. You can sleep with us tomorrow night, okay?" With that, Hayate found himself being hurriedly ushered from the room. He sighed in defeat—this encounter was supposed to give him answers, not leave him even more confused than he already was: his master was apparently not being hurt—in fact, she had _wanted_ him to leave—and he had once again been exiled.

As Hayate slunk into his doggie bed, he resolved that tomorrow, he would not hold back: he would have his answers, no matter what it took to get them.


	33. Fear

**Updates will still probably be slow. It may be summer, but research takes up more of my time and energy that I'd care to admit. XD Still, enjoy my tired musings. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Fear<br>**

Riza entered her apartment, veritably shaking. Flipping on the light, she leaned against the wall and slid down it until she was sitting, her head in her hands. A creepy, childlike voice sounded in her head, unbidden: _No matter where you are, I will be watching you…from the shadows_. Her breathing had not yet returned to normal since the encounter (jumping at every shadow on her walk home had definitely not helped the situation). She knew that she was no longer safe.

Not that she had ever really been safe to begin with, not after she had decided to follow her Colonel in his endeavor to smoke out the top brass of the military. But now, any security she had felt as a hostage of the enemy was completely ripped apart—after all, it's foolish to kill a hostage, as doing so would cause a loss of all bargaining power. She had at least known that her life had been safe for the time being. Now, though, it seemed all her privacy was lost. And that, really, was a loss of safety: she did not even know where she could come and go freely, and the morbid, worried thoughts rushing around her head did little to make her headspace a safe escape. She did not even know when she was being watched anymore (for all she knew, they were watching her right this very second). She wasn't safe at work or at home. She couldn't even go to her most trusted companion for help or reassurance (but he needed to know this new information, and she didn't know how on earth she was going to get it to him)—

The phone rang. Startled from her thoughts, Riza let out a small yelp, causing Hayate (who had apparently been standing there the entire time) to look at her questioningly. She slowly stood, gathering her courage. Who would be calling her this late at night? No one ever called her this late about work. What if something had happened to one of her comrades? What if—(her bones chilled at this next idea)—what if the homunculi were calling just to remind her of their power over her? To let her know that she was not even safe in her own apartment? To inform her that she never would be safe again? To threaten her? To threaten Roy?

She steeled herself and picked up the phone, willing her voice to remain steady. "Hello?" she answered in what she hoped was a tone that conveyed confidence.

"Hello, madam. This is your neighborhood florist." Riza felt relief flood through her entire body as she heard the one voice that could have possibly comforted her in her hour of need. It didn't matter that what he was doing was extremely dangerous, nor did it matter that she couldn't even tell him what was wrong. She just needed his voice, that reminder that no matter what happened to her, he was still breathing, alive and safe for the moment.

Her heart, which had been racing ever since her encounter with Pride, finally began to slow. She might have smiled.


	34. Thunder

**Since I missed Royai day (and I've kind of been neglecting this little project of mine), I decided to upload two different stories for the same theme. The first one focuses on one of Riza's reasons for joining the military (although she has many, to be sure). Also, I was assuming that at this point in time, she did not yet have knowledge of her grandfather. The second one contains some UST, but I'm not sure how well it came out. It wasn't fluff, so I wasn't sure how to write it! XD In any case, enjoy. Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Thunder, Take 1<br>**

Ever since Roy had left the Hawkeye household after her father's funeral, the secrets of flame alchemy now carved freshly into his mind, the old manor had felt rather lonely. Creepy, even. Riza knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but sometimes the way the shadows moved in the empty hallways reminded her of the ghost stories she used to read when she was little. As she lay in her bed, she heard a distant rumble of thunder. It echoed throughout the too-big house, reminding her that she was utterly alone. All the family she knew of was dead. At this moment, there was only one person in the world that knew anything of importance about her, and that person had just left her house to quite possibly die on the side of the road as a piece of trash (he could be taken from her as quickly and as suddenly as lightning appears, scouring the sky and bringing after it a wail of pain and misery which echoes throughout the heavens).

That couldn't happen. Riza sat straight up in bed as the realization hit her. If she lost Roy, she lost everything. She lost all her friends, her companions, and her family (after all the years Roy had lived in her house, he had begun to feel like family to her). She swore to herself that she would not let anything take him from this world if she had anything to say about it.

That night, she made a promise to herself: she would protect the only person who cared about her, no matter the cost—and she knew what this meant she had to do. The next day, she would take a trip down to the local recruiting office, and she would let them know that she planned to attend the military academy. And she was not going to take "no" for an answer.

* * *

><p><strong>Thunder, Take 2<strong>

It had been storming for two hours already, and Roy was getting rather sick of it.

It seemed like every time he had begun to focus on his documents, another pound of thunder broke through his concentration. He had barely looked through ten documents since the storm started, growing more and more annoyed as time wore on that, for one reason or another, he just couldn't block out the excess noise today.

He supposed it might have something to do with the fact that his Lieutenant soldiered on through the storm, hardly even noticing the rumbles that shook the floor or the streaks of bright light that could make even the darkest man appear to be a lifeless specter. In fact, the more he studied the Lieutenant's behavior, the more fascinated he became. How could it be that she didn't even jump in the slightest at the loudest crashes of thunder? How did her writing hand remain steady, even when the storm raged around her, threatening to throw her perfect penmanship into crazy spirals out of sheer surprise?

They were alone in the office at the moment. If only she showed even a little bit of shock or fear at the elements, he would too gladly place himself next to her and offer his comfort. If only she noticed the storm at all, he could start a conversation with her, their flirting (as always) remaining in code. Perhaps, since they were alone, he would be bold enough to flirt with her outright. He could bask in her presence, maybe even lay a hand on her shoulder or her arm, and, if he played his cards right, be rewarded with a smile. A kiss, even. Maybe more. Despite his knowledge that this could never happen at work, that it was far too dangerous to pursue even outside of work, he nonetheless let his thoughts roam as he imagined being given the opportunity to explore her body with his hands (her hair, so soft and smooth, forever bound in that clip), his lips (her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her chin, her neck, and down, down, down, farther and farther down, down to the places that no one but him should ever see), his tongue…

Feeling his gaze weighing heavily upon her, Riza raised her head to look at her commanding officer across the room, one glance at his face confirming her suspicions. She hated to admit that as annoyed as she was that he was getting distracted at work, she could not deny that she also wanted the opportunity to become very distracted about him…_with_ him. After all, how many times had she imagined it and the release it would bring? Despite the fact that she knew that the laws were strict and that there were many more important things to chase after than their unspoken feelings for each other, she could not help but notice that they were alone (and probably would be for the next couple of hours), the office doors were locked as a security precaution, no one would see into the windows, no one would hear over the noise of the storm, and what was one little tryst anyway…

As their eyes locked, the thunder outside boomed much too loudly.


	35. Bonds

**Here, have some musings (and let me know if you even enjoy reading the semi-philosophical stuff I sometimes spew at you). XD Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Bonds<strong>

Everyone is this world is bound to another person in some way, shape, or form. Some are bound to many people, and others are bound only to one. Bonds exist between all sorts of people: lovers, friends, enemies, and family. They know no gender, race, or creed. They simply exist, uniting the human race in both helpful and harmful ways. Some cause the soft, heaven-inspired light of love and peace, while others stir up the scorching fires of hatred, rivalries, and war. Some bonds are light and waver falteringly, threatening to fall apart at any moment. Others are strong, drawing two people closer and closer together even when they try to break apart. All bonds are invisible, meant to be felt rather than seen.

Some bonds are powerful enough to be felt by outsiders who are simply in the presence of two strongly-bound souls. Such a bond must durable enough to surpass the test of time and the trials of life. The chain that binds two such people must be made of the toughest material, but it also must be light enough to not drag its captives down. It must be long enough to allow the two people to be independent, but it must also be short enough to keep them from straying too far apart. The chain must be loose enough to allow its netted souls to breathe, but it must also be tight enough to prevent its own removal. Anyone who experiences such a rare bond even once in his or her lifetime is very fortunate indeed, but the fortune of one who lives the life of a soul bound to such a chain is perhaps tenfold that amount.

Everyone who has been in a room with Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye has certainly felt such a perfectly tempered bond, whether or not they were aware of it at the time. Every time the soldiers were separated from one another, the chain between their souls tugged them back together. And every time they were brought back together, their mutual links grew even stronger. After many years, their connection would prove to be unbreakable, withstanding even the strongest of firestorms which would melt any other chain. Truly their ties were so sturdy, so permanent, that if one of them passed on to a different world, the other would soon be pulled into the afterlife with them.

Such bonds have a terrible beauty to behold, for as much strength and endurance as these chains provide, they also allow two people to be defined by each other. Without one, the other is sure to be lost. Fortunately for Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang, they never have to discover what it would be like to lose the other permanently. They may have come close many times in the past, but chains such as theirs have a way of keeping the bound alive for no other reason than their partner's continued existence.

There is no way to rid oneself of these perfectly bonding ties of fate: they remain forever a blessing and curse upon those who are held by them. Roy and Riza have always been and shall always be drawn to and defined by each other. And, truthfully, they wouldn't have it any other way. It is what makes their intertwined lives unique, memorable, and, most of all, stunningly beautiful.


	36. Market

**No philosophical musings this time, which I'm sure you're grateful for. XD Remember to leave some love (or hate, if you prefer, but if you're going to do that, at least give me some suggestions on how to improve)! Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Market<strong>

Once a week, Riza headed down to her town's market to pick up groceries for herself and the two men who inhabited the same house that she did. Usually, she loved going to the market. It was a nice change of pace from her normal routine, and it allowed her to distance herself from the too-big, lonely manor in which she spent far too much time. She liked that it gave her a chance to clear her mind.

So why on earth had her father's half-witted apprentice insisted on coming along this week?

Okay, Riza knew that Roy (or Mister Mustang, as her father wanted her to call him) was a very intelligent young man. Not only was he bright enough to learn alchemy, he seemed to have quite the knack for it. His was a talent that her father could not let go to waste. Riza herself, although she was bright and had been able to pick up on the basics of alchemy, had no interest in it, which prevented her from learning the deeper nuances of the science. According to her father, even if a person has the intelligence required to be able to use alchemy, if they don't contain an intense desire to learn it, they cannot move beyond the most basic transmutations. Riza's lack of desire to learn alchemy was considered by Berthold to be one of his life's greatest misfortunes, and it is what initially drove him to find an apprentice—even if he couldn't make flame alchemy a Hawkeye family legacy, he was still going to pass it on to someone so that his research would not go to waste. (This caused Riza to resent Roy somewhat, as any occasional affection she had previously gotten from her father was now given to his apprentice. Ever since he had arrived, it seemed she no longer existed to her father. She and her father had not been particularly close before, but at least then he had acknowledged her presence. Now she was nothing more than a ghost that clung to the dreary walls and hid in the dark shadows, longing, and yet fearing, discovery.)

So, Riza knew that Roy was smart. She did not fault him for his intelligence and aptitude for alchemy. She even found it hard to blame him for stealing her father's rare moments of paternal pride (she tended to avoid her father nowadays, and Roy was really the only person who came into regular contact with him). She and Roy had held conversations before, but they were always short-lived and a little awkward. They were both simultaneously intrigued and made nervous by each other's presence. Riza supposed this accounted for the tightening of her stomach and the slightly-faster-than-normal pace of her heart as they made their way side-by-side down the path to the market. They did not speak until they reached Market Street, where booths selling everything from locally grown produce to imported delicacies lined both sides of the narrow street, crowding people in close to each other as they inspected each booth's goods.

Roy's mouth dropped open in surprise at the spectacle. "You guys have your market outside?"

"Yes," Riza deadpanned; it seemed rather obvious that the marketplace was not in a building. Then she reminded herself to be patient—things were done differently in cities (at least, that was what she had been told by people who had actually _been_ to cities). "I take it the market in Central is inside?"

Roy nodded as he continued to drink in the sight before him. "Actually, there are a couple different markets, considering the size of the city. The one that my aunt gets her food from isn't too far from her…uh, the place she lives"—Riza picked up on his hesitation and careful choice of words, but she chose not to comment on it—"and the building is a lot bigger than this street. And roomier. You never get jostled around there the way you do here."

Riza nodded, careful to not lose him in the crowd. They had come to the market during its busiest day, which happened to be the only day when Riza had time to go. "That must be nice…stop here. We need bread." Roy stood close to Riza, all but attaching himself to her side so they wouldn't get separated in the chaos, amazed at the way she easily bartered prices down to fit her father's pathetically small budget. He wouldn't say that she was particularly friendly with any of the booth tenders, but she was amiable enough and treated them all with respect, a kindness that they gladly gave to her in return. Judging by the demanding way in which the other customers treated them, it seemed that the tenders comparatively enjoyed doing business with Riza and were therefore more willing to lower their prices for her.

They finished the shopping and began their return to the Hawkeye household, generally getting to know each other better (even though they had both lived in the same house for about a year now, they had rarely had a chance for contact with one another—their everyday duties kept them both busy). Roy, being ever the gentleman, offered to carry both bags of groceries (stuffed to the brim) back to the house. He soon found this to be a much more challenging task than he had previously thought it to be. Only his ego prevented him from asking Riza for help. As he struggled with balancing his burden, impressed that Riza did this by herself every week, he saw her smile. He wasn't sure if she was smiling in amusement or in gratitude, but the sight was nonetheless absolutely beautiful and made his battle with the grocery bags seem completely worth the trouble.

It was on that day that Roy determined to make Riza smile as much as he could while they were living under the same roof—he knew she didn't have many reasons to smile, given her situation, but it was his firm belief that no one should go through life without laughter. He did not yet know that he would be extending his pursuit of that smile to the remainder of his life. And every time she would reward him with its divine radiance, his day would grow a little brighter and a little warmth would creep into his core. And later on, when he would think about it, he would realize that little upward curve of her mouth was all he really needed to be happy. Even in his darkest times (and definitely in her darkest times), he would strive to make her smile. When everything else would appear to be full of despair, that little gesture (the one that only she could offer him in just the way he would always need) would provide him with a reason to never give up.


	37. Technology

**Eh...I'm not exceptionally happy with how this turned out, but maybe you'll like it anyway. Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Technology<strong>

The gears on a well-oiled machine turn smoothly, offering consistent and reliable results. Whether this machine is making other machines or operating an already existing one, it can be depended upon to do its job without any complaints. The machine does not have a mind of its own, but its existence is appreciated and defended by those who treasure the services it unknowingly provides.

Such a machine is the unparalleled teamwork showcased by Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye. Although they have a clear goal in mind for the future, many of their present tasks at work contain monotonous paperwork that tests the limits of their patience. Whenever they are stuck inside with such nap-inducing tasks, their machine often works in starts and stops, occasionally sputtering (due to one half of it being far less tolerant of such tedious tasks than the other). Many times, repairs are needed, the kind which Riza is very good at recognizing and providing, being a part of the machine herself. She knows the inner workings of her machine well enough to make it run smoothly again, and her counterpart always (well, usually) responds well to her careful and practiced tweaks.

However, when the machine enters into a highly dramatic, life-or-death situation, it runs incredibly well. Few mistakes are made, if any at all, and it is ready to deal with any unforeseen circumstances. The results from such situations are incredibly reliable. When given such an important task, the machine performs at its best, not needing repairs or more oil to keep it running…for the most part.

There are times when the machine falls apart during high-stress situations. When one member of the formidable machine is taken down by an enemy (or is under such a threat), the partner often completely breaks down and stops working. With only one half of the machine working, it is often impossible to get the other half to work as well, considering the intricate manner in which the machine is put together (one partner's gears turns the other's, and the wires that pass between them intertwine and connect with each other at the machine's very heart). In cases such as this, an outside mechanic is completely useless. Only if the damaged half of the machine is somehow able to repair itself enough to convince the other half to continue will the machine be able to operate again.

The machine of Roy and Riza is a complicated piece of technology, but it is also the only one that can truly accomplish great things. One may spend his or her whole life studying its inner workings and never fully understand it. It is doubtful that the two who make up such a marvelous invention even comprehend it completely themselves. Such is the complexity of the power of love—the source that provides the machine with not only its life and strength, but also its very downfall.


	38. Gift

**FLUFF!**

**Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Gift<strong>

Riza did not deserve gifts. This she knew. One who has taken from others as much as she has no right to receive even the smallest of blessings. So it was still a surprise to her when, even after six months, she consistently woke up next to Roy's disheveled black head of hair, a downy mass made messier than normal from the previous night's rest.

Riza often woke before her husband, giving her the opportunity to see him when he was completely unguarded. He was lying on his back, mouth hanging slightly open. He released warm breaths at regular intervals, his chest rising on the opposite beats. His black hair stuck out in several places, haloed by the strikingly white pillow on which it rested. Soft tendrils fell onto his forehead, their texture making Riza think of the silk from which angel's wings are made. She had to keep herself from running her fingers through those tempting dark strands, as such a movement would only cause him to stir. She reminded herself that she had plenty of time for such actions during the evenings (after work only—the ability to have a physical relationship gave them something to look forward to throughout the day). Her eyes fell to his closed ones, and she marveled at how childlike and innocent they appeared in sleep, devoid of the worries that constantly creased them in wakefulness. His eyelashes fluttered suddenly, warning Riza of his return to the realm of reality.

Riza smiled to herself as he let out a soft groan, opening his eyes unwillingly to the harsh sunlight that blared through the open window. He turned his head slightly to avoid the bright light, his eyes finding and slowly focusing on Riza's face. A gentle smile lifted his cheeks as he recognized his wife. "Riza…" he said somewhat reverently, clearing his throat to rid it of the hoarseness which sleep always provides, "Good morning." He opened his arms to her, inviting her in for a quick hug and kiss, silent reaffirmations of the feelings that both knew had not (and would not) die.

Riza permitted herself a moment of peaceful comfort in his arms, head resting on his chest. Every day for the past six months, she had been given the chance to show her love openly to her former superior (now, as Fuhrer, he demanded that she be treated as a rank equal to his own—since she hadn't quit the military when she married him, she still technically ranked lower than a few of the other soldiers in the high command, but she was the one in whom he confided and whose judgment he trusted the most; it was widely recognized that, ranks aside, she was his true second-in-command). Riza's marriage was a gift that she had convinced herself long ago she would never be able to receive. But here she was, basking in her undeserved happiness, somehow still being given good things, even after all the discord she had caused.

Perhaps she didn't deserve a happy ending. Perhaps, one day, things would fall apart. But for now, she allowed herself to enjoy such a rare gift as contentment—a feeling for which everyone longs, yet so few are able to obtain. And even though she felt a little guilty floating in her own bliss, she reasoned that since she had no idea how long something this amazing would last, the least she could do was enjoy its presence while it remained.


	39. Smile

**Hello again! Just to let you know, updates may once again be few and far between, as I am having surgery very soon and don't know when I'll feel up to doing anything besides sleeping. XD Thanks to everyone who has been reading along faithfully thus far, and I hope you'll be patient as I recover. **

**Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Smile<strong>

It was the day of Edward and Winry's wedding. Roy and Riza had decided to come down a few days before the wedding to see the bride and groom, as well as Alphonse and Mei. They had not seen each other since the Promised Day one year prior, so Riza had been looking forward to the visit, not to mention the break from all the work in Ishval. She knew that Roy had been looking forward to it, too, even though he was loath to admit that maybe he had missed the brothers' lively presence in his office.

Riza was currently in the guest bedroom of the Elric/Rockbell house, changing into her dress for the wedding. The dress was a long purple thing, complete with a lengthy slit up the side. The back and neck of the dress were high, concealing the unsightly scar on her neck and the destroyed formula for flame alchemy on her back. Even though it was a small wedding, Riza was still in charge of Roy's safety and would therefore take no chances, and it was with this logic that she strapped an expertly concealed gun to her thigh.

Outside the bedroom door, she could hear Roy and Ed bickering good-naturedly. Roy, along with Al, had been placed in charge of making sure Ed stayed far away from Winry and the rest of the bridal entourage before the ceremony. It was really very sweet of Ed to try to see and talk to Winry before the actual wedding, but a bride needs her time to get ready, and everyone knew that Ed would only end up being a nuisance to her in his current state of excitement and nervousness.

Riza cracked the door open slightly and poked her head out, clearing her throat to make her presence known. "Sorry to interrupt, but General, do you think you could zip me up?" Riza's dress had a long zipper that stretched from the small of her back all the way up to the base of her hairline.

"Of course, Captain," Roy nodded once and raised his hand slightly to Ed in lieu of a spoken goodbye before entering his subordinate's room and closing the door. Ed was understandably a little confused at Roy's actions. It was just the zipper of a dress, so he didn't really understand why they both had to retreat into the room and close the door. And it was _Hawkeye_ wearing the dress, so it wasn't like he was going to see something he shouldn't. Theoretically, zipping it up should only take a matter of seconds, which also left Ed questioning Mustang's very obviously firm goodbye. But Ed had learned long ago that Mustang and Hawkeye lived in a world of secrets, and oftentimes, it was best not to ask questions. He knew there had to be a reason that Hawkeye was reluctant to show her back to anyone but Mustang, and so he decided to let them be alone and search for his brother instead.

Inside the guest bedroom, Roy pulled the zipper all the way up her back, watching her tattoo slowly become concealed by the purple fabric. As he neared the top of the dress, he carefully parted her hair so as to not get the zipper caught in it. "Your dress is very nice," he spoke softly, but not unprofessionally. His hand paused at her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, one that said everything he had left unspoken: his understanding of her need to hide her back and neck, his thoughts that she was beautiful regardless of her marred skin, his acknowledgement of the fact that this was the closest they were allowed to be tonight (one dance, that was all they got), and a million other thoughts and feelings that could not be encompassed by this one simple touch, but that didn't matter because Riza understood every last one.

She lifted her hand up to her shoulder to meet his—soft and brief, procuring a feeling like a sigh inside of her—and smiled softly. In this world of chaos and uncertainty, it was a comfort to have a constant: a person who would always be there, emotionally (so very intimately and personally) and physically (as close as laws would allow). Their hands fell to their sides, and Roy gave her a sad smile as he moved to exit the room. "See you soon, Captain," he said quietly as he opened the door.

"Yes, sir," Riza replied, turning back to her preparations. The door creaked as it closed, announcing the end of a strangely intimate moment, making Riza think, oddly, of a heart breaking. How ironic, she thought, that a day that was supposed to be full of smiles and happiness only served to remind her of what she couldn't have.


	40. Innocence

**The surgery went well, and the recovery, although it will still be a few more weeks, has gone smoothly thus far. So, in celebration, I bring you something short and sweet to help me get back into the habit of writing. Thanks for your patience! I'm hoping updates will come more frequently now as we approach the final ten themes.  
><strong>

**Remember, reviews make me squeal like a little girl! Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Innocence<strong>

Roy still remembered the look in Riza's eyes the day he had first arrived at the Hawkeye household, hoping to find a successful apprenticeship with Berthold Hawkeye. She had stood warily behind the door, her face partially covered by it. She had not seemed intimidated by him—rather, her stance was one of respect and quiet submission. Although her eyes had been downcast, Roy had noticed that they looked much too wearied for such a young girl. Even at first glance, it was apparent that she had borne much for her age. Her eyes lacked the confident innocence in which preteens like herself usually thrived. However, even though her eyes spoke of a heavily beleaguered past, they also contained a spark of will and life that Roy had rarely seen. He could tell that although she had been bent many times, she had never been completely broken.

Roy quickly became intrigued by the little mistress of the house—a sweet girl, really, once she came out of her protective shell, who had lost her innocence from the cruelties of life far too soon. As time went on and he learned more about her, he made it his secondary goal to give her as much cheer as he could while he was living in her house (his primary goal was, of course, learning alchemy). And every once in a while, with his heart warm and his countenance light after they had shared some time together, their voices and laughter collaborating to make the Hawkeye manor a less dreary affair, he would look into her eyes and see gratitude.

A favor for a favor, it would seem.


	41. Completion

**I meant to have this up here sooner, but you know how life goes. XD Enjoy! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Completion<strong>

In the back of his mind, Roy knew that the war in Ishval was over. He had performed his duties as a human weapon. His role in this tragedy had been completed. He had watched thousands burn in front of him, their faces distorted in unending torment as their skin bubbled under the wrath of his fire. Out of pity, he had made the flames as hot as he could, hoping to shorten the suffering of the masses. Of all the ways to die, he imagined his brand of murder was one of the worst. Death by fire, after all, is not instantaneous. It is not merciful. In spite of this knowledge, he still tried to make death come quickly for his victims, if for no other reason than to stop their terrible screams. His only comfort was the knowledge that no one he cared about was caught up in the torment he created, that the ones he loved would see something besides flickering reds, oranges, and yellows before they plunged into darkness forever.

But that comfort had not lasted long—by her request, he had burned his friend from years ago, a girl whom he had left a child and found an old, wearied woman. Her skin was the hardest to watch tremble under the force and pain of his godforsaken flames. Her muffled cries were the ones that haunted him the most at night. But she had insisted that he was giving her freedom through this act. Roy disagreed (for how could tying herself symbolically to him allow her to become her own person?), but he was in no position to tell her what was right. He stood behind her, watching her skin boil before his eyes, listening to her torment as it passed through his ears, feeling his heart, which he had thought he had steeled so very well against all emotions, tear into pieces inside him.

Yes, the war was over. Yes, he could go home. But he could never, ever forget.

If life has taught Roy one thing, it is that time is an effective healer. Roy had always been a strong person, and so he managed to find a path through the darkness, unlike the many state alchemists who had thrown their licenses away and sentenced themselves to a life of unresolved regret. And even though Roy struggled, he refused to pity himself. After all, he had chosen this path. And what was more, he had _her_ beside him now. They shared each other's burdens and made the process of healing bearable. They came back stronger than they were before, stronger than either of them thought they could be. They now found themselves embarking on another mission—not one of destruction and mayhem this time, but rather one of reconciliation. If they were capable of so much ruin, then they could certainly be capable of just as much restoration. And they knew, even without speaking their intentions aloud, that as long as they had each other, there would be no rest until their newfound mission was complete. The only thing left for Roy to do was to fix his gaze toward the light of the future and never again allow himself to fall into the darkness of the past—and finally, he allowed himself to do that, knowing that he wouldn't have to look behind him to assure his own safety. _She_ would always have his back.


	42. Clouds

**Finally, a quick update from me. XD Standard disclaimer applies, and I also don't own "Silver Lining" by Hurts in any way.**

* * *

><p><strong>Clouds<strong>

_And I won't let you drown; when the water's pulling you in,  
>I'll keep fighting, I'll keep fighting.<br>The rain's going to follow you wherever you go.  
>The clouds go black and the thunder rolls<br>And I see lightning, I see lightning_

_When the world surrounds you, I'll make it go away,_  
><em>Paint the sky with silver lining.<em>  
><em>I will try to save you, cover up the grey<em>  
><em>With silver lining.<em>

_-Hurts, "Silver Lining"_

Riza's military apartment was situated close to the cemetery, which meant that she usually passed by it when she took Hayate on walks. One particularly overcast evening, she decided to detour into the cemetery itself and visit Hughes's grave—even with the threat of rain, she didn't mind making her walk longer, as the sky accurately fit her current mood. She and Hughes may not have been particularly close, but he had helped her get through the Ishvalan war, and so she felt obliged to occasionally leave some flowers at his final resting place. Also, with her mind more plagued than usual, she thought that it would be fitting to visit one of the people who had once helped ease her burdens.

As she was approaching the grave, Hayate let out a small bark, apparently recognizing someone's scent. Riza broke out of her reverie and glanced ahead, not at all shocked to see her commanding officer standing in front of the very same grave she was headed toward. She considered leaving to give him some time alone (for all she knew, he was feeling just as drained as she), but Roy looked up before she had the chance to turn around. He gave her a small wave, and Riza decided that it would be okay to interrupt him just this once.

"I see that you and I had very similar ideas today," Roy said as soon as Riza stopped in front of the grave. "They say that great minds think alike."

"They certainly do, sir," she replied, giving Roy a small smile as she placed her flowers next to his on the smooth marble. "I just thought I'd make sure Hughes didn't get too lonely."

Roy let out a small chuckle. "If I had to guess, I would say that you actually came here to check up on me." He fixed her with a pointed stare. "Am I right?"

Riza looked down at her feet, the intensity of her colonel's gaze weighing heavily on her shoulders. She hesitated for a moment before she spoke, wondering if she should tell him about her mind's recent plagues. Ultimately, she decided against it; if he was here, then certainly he was feeling burdened, too. She shouldn't add her troubles to his today. "No, sir," she replied carefully, "I didn't expect to find you here. I really did come to visit Hughes. But since you're here…are you doing all right, sir?"

"I'm perfectly fine, Lieutenant," he said, and this time, he actually was telling the truth. "You don't need to worry about me." Riza lifted her eyes to his and searched them for a moment before she accepted his words. Roy was, as always, impressed by his lieutenant's dedication to his well-being. Whenever it seemed that his world was shrouded with clouds and a storm was brewing, she always swept in on a ray of sunshine to save him. When she was with him, even the darkest clouds had a silver lining. She never let him give into despair or hatred. Sometimes, he thought she fought harder for him than he fought for himself. Even though he never spoke it out loud, he was truly appreciative of her efforts to pull him out of the darkness and into a sun-filled space where his internal clouds could never chase him. It had taken him a while to realize it, but he had discovered that when Riza was around, it never had to rain.

He did his best to exchange those services to her, but she never needed them much—after all, she had always been the stronger of the two of them. Today, though, he could tell that she was feeling more burdened than usual. It was his turn to give her clouds a silver lining and provide her with a little more hope for the rest of the day. After all the efforts she put forth for him, this was the least he could do in return.

"It's a nice evening, Lieutenant," he spoke casually, clearly lying about the weather as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I wouldn't mind being out longer. Care if I join you for the rest of your walk?"

Riza smiled; he always seemed to know just when she needed him close by. "I'd like that very much," she said softly. Hayate barked approvingly. The two soldiers proceeded to stroll out of the cemetery side-by-side in amiable silence, simply basking in the joy of the other's presence.

Near the horizon, the clouds that had been omnipresent all day slowly drifted apart, shedding the ancient but welcome light of sunset onto a land which had been soaked in dreariness for far too long.


	43. Sky

**Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sky<strong>

Roy would openly admit his idiocy as he walked out of the presidential estate if it would make Riza stop crying. After a heated argument such as the one they just had, she would normally calmly inform him that he was an idiot and could sleep on the couch until he was ready to apologize for his stupidity. Today, though, she had completely exploded, yelling as she burst into tears that he should just leave the estate and not come back for a long time (in a slightly more expletive fashion). When this had happened, Roy had tried to move closer and apologize, but the look she sent him made her feelings on the matter crystal clear: it would be far safer for him to leave her alone for a few hours. As he walked away, he reassured himself that it was just her hormones acting up, as she was eight months pregnant. Although such reasoning didn't make him feel any less guilty, it did allow him to hope that she would forgive him sooner rather than later.

As he passed through the door, he spotted Hayate pacing in the lawn, doing his part to keep the estate safe. Hayate barked as he spotted Roy, running over to greet him excitedly.

"Hey, boy," Roy said, squatting down to pat the dog on the head. He took a deep breath and sighed, unsure why he was about to spill his guts to some four-legged animal. "I screwed up with Riza." Hayate whimpered, as if he knew exactly what kind of danger that posed for the man. "Yeah, I know. I'm banished out here until further notice. And all over some stupid argument about maternity leave." Roy ran his hand through his hair and collapsed the rest of the way down onto the ground. Hayate stepped in closer, resting his head on Roy's leg in an attempt to comfort him. "It's crazy, really. She's had a rough pregnancy, so I suggested that she take a couple of weeks off before the baby's due just to rest up. But she wants to keep working until she has the baby, claiming that she has to keep protecting me for as long as she can. I made some heartless comment about how she's not really in a position to protect anyone right now—I mean, her ankles are so swollen that it's hard for her to walk—and…I guess that crossed a line, because then heated words got thrown around, and I said some things I really shouldn't have. I don't even want to repeat them." He blew air out through his lips, marking his reluctance to share the next details. Stroking the dog, he said in a low, defeated voice, "I made her cry, boy. I'm such an idiot."

Hayate jumped up and barked, giving Roy a pointed glare. It was almost as if the dog had understood every word that Roy had said (Roy wouldn't have been surprised if he actually had). "Go to Riza, Hayate. I'm sure she'd much rather see you than me right now." Without any further noise, Hayate ran off toward the estate, slipping through the doggie door and out of Roy's sight.

For the next hour, Roy sat in the grass, replaying the argument in his head over and over and trying to come up with the perfect wording for his apology. As he was starting to get exasperated (why was he getting so worked up over something as simple as "sorry"?), he heard labored steps behind him, growing constantly closer to where he was sitting. Without turning around, Roy knew that Riza was approaching him, sure to be followed closely by her loyal canine companion. The footsteps stopped right behind him, but Roy still refused to turn around, afraid of what he might find in her eyes.

"Who would have ever guessed that you could be useless on sunny days, too?" Riza's voice sounded behind him softly, devoid of the anger it had previously held. Roy looked up at the sky: sure enough, there was not a cloud to behold. The sun blazed furiously over the land, casting the heavens in a brilliant shade of blue that was almost too painfully bright to look at. Lowering his eyes, Roy stood slowly and turned to face his wife.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice little more than a whisper, "Really, I am. I'm an idiot, and I shouldn't have said—"

He broke off as Riza pulled him into a hug, which was a little awkward due to her burgeoned belly. "Shh," she soothed into his ear, "It's okay." He breathed out a sigh of relief as he wrapped his arms around her as much as he could. Finally, she pulled back, moving her hand to cup his face. "You're still an idiot, though," she said, smiling slightly as she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

Roy allowed himself a smile, moving his hand to rest on top of hers and hold it against his cheek. "I know."


	44. Heaven

**Hello again! I've been in a bit of a creativity rut lately, so I hope that these next two themes aren't too horrible to read. This theme in particular kind of ran away from me, and I tried not to let it turn into a total train wreck. I hope it's not too weird. Please let me know what you think (I may edit/completely replace it in the future, and I'd like to know if you think that's necessary).**

**Disclaimer applies.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Heaven<strong>

Everything was normal the night that Roy and Riza died. The moon had risen, just as it had for billions of years, the nighttime animals ventured out of their homes, and slowly, the silence of the night had set into the land. All along the path to the home that Roy and Riza shared in their retirement, the soft chirping of crickets could be heard, accompanied by the melody the light breeze made through the trees.

Both Roy and Riza died peacefully in their sleep—there was no villainous plot to dispose of the two most beloved leaders in all of Amestris's history, nor was there some morbid plan made by the corpses themselves. Their deaths were much simpler than any of the theories that would abound in Amestris in the following days, months, and years: their wearied bodies, no longer able to support the souls inside of them, had to follow the path that nature intended for all things since the dawning of life itself.

As soon as one of their hearts had stopped beating—it doesn't matter whose, as the end result would have been the same either way—the other also felt the need to cease. Their hearts had been intertwined for so many years, beating the same blood of love and friendship between the two, that they simply did not know how to continue to pulse regularly without feeling some connection to the life-force of the other.

Although Riza had never believed in something as impractical and unattainable as faith, she had heard in many places that death was introduced by a long tunnel that ended in a bright, enveloping light. They claimed that this light was a place called heaven, a place where people lived endlessly, knowing only of peace and happiness. There, enemies forgave each other, everyone was reunited with the people they loved, and any illnesses or defects that a person had suffered in his or her lifetime were eradicated completely. It sounded like an impossibly wonderful, almost magical, place. Riza, being a rational person, had concluded long ago that such a place could not exist.

But that certainly didn't explain her current location. She was in a perfectly green field, spotted colorfully with handfuls of flowers and surrounded by a brilliantly blue sky. It could have been just a part of her dream, but somehow Riza knew that it wasn't. She just had this itching feeling that she was no longer in the physical world, and her instincts were hardly ever wrong. Feeling a presence behind her, she turned around, gasping in shock as her eyes focused upon Roy. It wasn't unusual for him to be in her dreams, but this was different. People in dreams usually looked almost like mirages. Roy, however, seemed far too tangible to be a simple reproduction of her memories. Reaching out her hand, she touched Roy's arm, surprised at how _real_ he felt. Warmth spread through her entire body as she ran her fingers lightly over his skin. "Roy," she whispered, her voice the only noise in this strange place, "where are we?"

He smiled back at her in greeting, and then frowned as he spoke. "I have no idea," he stated, his eyebrows furrowing together, "It's like a dream…like we're somewhere else. But it's way too real. It's not the Portal of Truth, but rather somewhere…bigger, a place where physical things don't matter so much. Everything feels complete here."

Riza nodded in agreement. "I have a theory. And I didn't think I'd ever come to this conclusion about anything, as I'm pretty sure this place doesn't exist. Yet, somehow, it does. We're here, in a land of the impossible made possible."

Roy shrugged. "Who knows? But whatever this place is, I'm glad I'm in it with you." He reached out his hand, which Riza gladly took, as they headed off into this strange new realm. She did not fail to notice that the scars on his palms from the Promised Day so many years ago were inexplicably gone, nor did the feeling of utter tranquility slip her by. She didn't know where she was, but she had a feeling that she would never want to leave.

And as long as Roy was there, too, she was fine with that.


	45. Hell

**Again, I'm sorry that I've been struggling with creativity lately. Ishval had been fanfic'd to death (yes, I did just make a noun into a verb), and I apologize for continuing to fanfic it into deeper and deeper circles of hell (Dante's _Inferno_ ftw?). Enjoy it anyway! :) Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Hell<strong>

_Is hell made of fire?_ Riza idly wondered to herself as she lay, sleepless as usual, in her tent in Ishval. She laughed humorlessly at her own musings: of course hell was made of fire; she had watched the fire burn openly in the dry desert air of her own personal hell herself. Mustang's flames had rendered entire districts to ash—the flames that she had given him in her hopes for a brighter future. She had wanted a world that burned with passion for peace and love, but only destructive fire had come about. Her vision had been rendered unattainable by the very flames she had chosen to trust. While it is true that fire can bring about life, it is more common that it spins out of control and brings naught but destruction. For believing that such an uncertain force could build a stable foundation for an entire country, she was a fool.

But there was no point in lingering on that now. What was done was done, and nothing she did could erase her past actions, try though she might. All she could do at the moment was wait for the war to end. Riza did not allow herself to imagine her future. With her luck, if she got her hopes up about leaving the battlefield in the same way that she had about the future of flame alchemy, she would probably end up dead. For now, it was best to stay in the present moment.

To the other soldiers' credits, they had been mostly respectful (and somewhat protective) of her. Whenever she would sit by a campfire after her shift ended, a few of them would join her, bringing with them her rations of food and drink. They would then escort her to the shower house and stand guard outside until she emerged after a quick scrub in the dark. Afterwards, they would drop her off at her tent and bid her good night. Riza would tie her tent flap down securely, ensuring that no one could enter without making enough noise to wake her. These soldiers usually didn't speak to her or to one another; the purpose of their presence seemed to be to discourage the odd soldier who thought a woman's place was in his bed instead of on the battlefield. Riza wasn't sure why these men went out of their way to make sure she was safe—it might have had to do with the fact that she was smaller than most and had an innocent face, or because she was one of the only females on the front (and the infamous Hawk's Eye, no less), or maybe they were hoping for a date sometime, or they could just be acting under orders (as much as the higher-ups didn't care about her, she was more useful to them alive and able to fight)—but nonetheless, she was grateful for their actions. They gave her a little bit of security in her fragile, burning world.

When she found Roy and started hanging around him and Maes, her mysterious bodyguards disappeared. She reasoned that perhaps they were afraid of the flame alchemist (most people were; it seemed that the only ones who weren't were the members of his squad), or maybe they—or those in command—figured that she was sufficiently protected with Roy around. She was sad to see her silent protectors go. By now, she could almost consider them friends, albeit rather odd ones. It seemed that the cursed flames of this hell could also keep her isolated, for she had never felt so alone in a crowd of soldiers than when she stood by the flame alchemist's side.

Hell may burn for no other reason than complete and utter annihilation, but Riza learned over time that fire has more than one face: where once it brings life, soon it brings naught but destruction. But after the fire ravages the land, new growth begins, and the forest that springs up is stronger than the one that perished before it. So, too, did Riza grow again after being burned, working side-by-side with the man who would nourish her recovery and witness her transformation into a beautiful new being, long though he might for the return of her innocence.

(He would never tell her, for she already knew, that she did just as much to help him as he did her—and it was with such a symbiotic relationship that they were bound together for life, sentenced willingly to bring forth a fire of redemption to the land and usher in a new era of peace and prosperity. They may have lost their faith as they witnessed the fires of hell, but now, they could watch the righteous flames of heaven take root—and what a beautiful sight they were to behold.)


	46. Sun

**I'm sorry I didn't update sooner! I've been feeling ill lately, so I haven't been in the mood to write. Thanks for being patient, and I hope the wait was worth it. XD Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Sun<strong>

It had been a week since the Promised Day, and Roy and Riza were getting ready to leave the hospital soon. Riza had mostly recovered from the massive amount of blood she had lost due to her slit throat, and Roy was mostly being kept for observation. He was an anomaly in the medical world, having lost his eyesight without any other signs of physical trauma or a withering disease. Of course, they couldn't tell the doctors what had actually happened, as they needed to keep the whole homunculus thing under tight wraps. So they let the doctors speculate and grow frustrated until they finally agreed to let him go. After all, they needed the bed he was currently occupying for other, much needier patients.

It was the night before their release, and neither Roy nor Riza could sleep. The next day held too much excitement and anticipation to allow either of their minds to relax. Not only were they going to venture out into the post-Promised Day world for the first time, but they were also going to attempt to return Roy's eyesight. They knew that using the Philosopher's Stone could very well be successful, as Havoc's legs had just been restored by its power, but they also knew that the procedure could go terribly wrong, and Roy could end up in an even worse state than the one he was currently in.

They had been sitting in a long silence, the clock's ticking the only noticeable noise in the room. Finally, Riza shattered the still air, voicing her trepidation for the coming day. "Are you sure you want to go through with this, sir?" she asked, bringing about memories of when he had asked her a similar question after she demanded that he burn her back in Ishval.

There was a long sigh from the bed next to hers before Roy's voice snaked quietly though the air. "Of course I'm sure. This is the only chance I have of continuing my career and my dreams—_our_ dreams. You know that, Lieutenant. Why are you questioning me now?" Riza picked up on the slight nervousness in his voice; he knew as well as she what it meant for the both of them if this didn't work out.

"You're right, sir. I'm sorry," Riza spoke apologetically. At this point, there was no other option, so she really shouldn't question his determination now. She decided to let the entire matter drop and try to get some rest instead, even though she knew that wasn't likely to happen.

But before she could close her eyes, Roy's voice sounded through the room again. "You know what I miss, Lieutenant?" He didn't even wait for her to reply before he continued. "The sun. I miss seeing its light play off of everything, like how it reflects off water in a pond. Or how it can light up a cloud even when it's behind it. Or how seeing it can completely change one's mood. I miss feeling its warmth. It's funny how I never realized how absolutely reassuring the sun's constant presence is. I just want to see it again."

"But not directly. That would ruin your newly regained vision," Riza added, her voice lighter now that it held a trace of humor. Roy chuckled.

"I promise to be responsible with my new eyesight," Roy grinned, hoping that Riza could see just how okay he was with taking this risk. And just like always, she saw exactly what he wanted to portray to her. They had been around each other so long; how could she not?

For the remainder of the night, they spoke light-heartedly about the things they were looking forward to seeing and doing once the next twenty-four hours had passed. Even though they had no more guarantee that things would work out as morning approached than they had the day they learned of the last Philosopher's Stone, they found themselves much more at ease. They were ready to defy the Portal of Truth's unfair punishment and lay eyes upon the great giver of life in the sky once again.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't forget that I love to hear what you think about my writing, criticism included!<strong>


	47. Moon

**Jealousy! Roy has it. :) Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Moon<strong>

Roy was working late one day when he had gotten a call from Riza. She had had the day off, so the fact that she was calling him at work was a little bit disconcerting. But she hadn't sounded like she was in danger; rather, she had just sounded annoyed. Be that as it may, Roy still didn't want to waste any time in getting to her location. She claimed that she had captured something strange, and he certainly didn't want to push his luck with her safety, even if this _thing_ didn't pose any immediate threats.

Roy walked the few blocks to Riza's location, noting how bright the moon was. It was a nearly cloudless night, and the moon was full. The streetlamps hardly seemed like they were even necessary at all. In fact, the combination of the bright light of the moon and the dull glow of the streetlamps created an eerie ambiance, causing an uncomfortable feeling to form in Roy's gut. He hoped this strange lighting wasn't some kind of omen. Before he let his imagination get away from him, he hurried along his way, hoping to find Riza still in one piece.

As soon as Riza (along with her newfound companion) came into sight, Roy froze in his tracks. Riza was indeed in one piece, but next to her was a giant suit of armor…sort of like Alphonse, in some respects, except this suit was carrying two giant meat cleavers. Now this was certainly an intriguing find, one that, at first glance, appeared to be full of danger. Despite his misgivings about the appearance of Riza's new "friend", his curiosity compelled him to continue along to where Riza and the suit of armor were sitting. Riza noticed Roy's arrival and visibly relaxed. "Sorry to bother you so late, Colonel," she said, standing.

Suddenly, a pair of iron arms greedily grabbed her waist, and a metallic voice screeched out, "Hey, toots, who's the chump?" Riza immediately elbowed the armor in the face, shouting and trying to break free from the superhumanly strong hold. Despite her protests, the suit of armor hung on, pulling Riza ever closer to his musty steel frame. The light cast by the moon allowed Roy to view the entire exchange in full detail.

He was not impressed, to say the least. Instead, a rather familiar feeling flared up inside him. He had often felt this way whenever another man flirted with Riza or dared to lay even so much as a hand on her arm. It served to remind him of what he could not do, which was to have any sort of unprofessional contact with her. Of course, there were _always_ consequences for those foolish enough to touch _his_ Lieutenant.

Roy deftly pulled out his spark gloves and stretched them onto his fingers, fully intending to send this disrespectful clout to meet his maker. He distantly heard a noise that sounded like a stalling car engine, only to realize later that it was actually the sound of his own growling. His voice rang out, low and feral, "Stand aside, Lieutenant. There's going to be a _fire_ tonight." He readied his fingers to snap.

But, no—Riza always had to have a level head. "Please calm yourself, Colonel!" she shouted to him, bringing him out of his murderous trance for a second. "This is Barry the Chopper, a criminal who was supposedly executed!" Roy froze, trying to process her words.

Well, damn it all. This changed everything. He was sure that his face visibly fell as he realized that he could not destroy such a potentially rich source of information. Slowly, he lowered his hands, sighing out his frustration. He caught Riza's eye in the moonlight, silently apologizing for his rash behavior. She understood; he had always been a bit overprotective of her. "I guess we have some calls to make, Lieutenant," Roy, now recovered from the shock of all that had transpired, stated in his usual, authoritative way. "We're going to need some help in order to sort this one out." He glared at Barry the Chopper, whose armor was practically glowing in the bright moonlight, reminding him of his place before leading the way to the phone booth.

"What was that for, buddy? She's hot," the suit of armor snapped, his unnatural voice raking through the otherwise calm night air.

Roy sighed, running a hand through his hair in desperation. It was going to be one hell of a long night, he was sure.


	48. Waves

**Another experiment with writing style (what can I say? I'm a scientist; I love to experiment). Please let me know what you think!  
><strong>

**I'm hoping this collection will be finished by the end of the week, preferably before I leave for college again. Keep your eyes peeled! Disclaimer applies, as usual. At least that's one thing that hasn't changed. :P  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Waves<strong>

They float in the ocean, in the midst of everything right and wrong and depends-on-the-situation. They are small, but they are not too small to cause ripples—not with their combined force, at least, for apart, they remain weak, but together, they push the limits of the possible. They have not come far when they discover what treachery they have willingly involved themselves in. They start to rebel. No one notices.

Years pass, and they become stronger. They find friends and allies, all of whom have realized the same sick truth. The military, which they all thought to be as unshakeable as the mountains of the north, has instead proven itself to be naught but a sinking ship, lost to the crashing waves of its own self-created tempest. They lose a friend and close ally, somehow finding valor in the midst of their despair. Their rebellion grows stronger.

They do not care much for their fate (and only one fate it is, for wherever they go, they go together). The waves they gradually make with their subtle movements cause the sweet sound of dissonance. The end is in sight. The battle rages. Much is lost, but even more is gained.

Through their arduous labors, they find something true, something infallible. They form a bond that none can sever, and when the tsunamis of their reforms finally die down in the wake of a peaceful sunrise, only one thing remains. Among all their triumphs and failures, one thing has ever been at the center of their existence (for they do not even remember a time when they were separate; in their eyes, they have always had one combined life): love, a force powerful enough to allow the idealistic dreams of one man and the faith of his most precious subordinate to create a large enough stir to change the world.

When they pass, the ocean will remain, beating their story against the shorelines of the world for millennia to come. They will not be forgotten.


	49. Hair

**Fluff alert! Disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Hair<strong>

Riza stood in the kitchen, waiting for Roy to come home. Normally, they would have come home together, but Roy, as the Fuhrer, had a lot of unexpected work come up at the last minute that day. She had offered to stay and help him, but, despite her protests, he had all but ordered her to go home and rest. In the interest of keeping him sane, she acquiesced to his demands.

Once home, she had taken it upon herself to start dinner, which was currently in the oven, even though it was Roy's turn to cook. She began to cut up vegetables, hoping that Roy would come home soon so his supper wouldn't get cold—and so that she wouldn't have to eat alone. After all the years she had spent living in her military apartment with no one but Hayate for company, Riza was always grateful to have someone—a real person she could talk to and laugh with—with whom to share a meal.

Distantly, Riza heard the front door open and wearily close again. Finally, Roy had arrived home. Abandoning her preparations, Riza went out to greet her doubtlessly irritated husband. He was currently lounging on the couch in the living room, his arms spread wide and his head resting on its back. His eyes were closed, and Hayate whined at his feet, nuzzling Roy's legs in his unique canine brand of comfort.

Roy was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Riza's approach behind him. She slowly threaded her fingers through Roy's hair and began to massage his scalp firmly, yet somehow still gently. It was a trick she had learned early on in their marriage: scalp massages (any type of massage, really, but Roy had a special affinity for his head rubs) never failed to help him relax and unwind a little. He groaned happily beneath her ministrations, leaning subtly into her touch and smiling ever so slightly.

"You know, you're the only person who can sneak up on me," he said after a few moments, keeping his eyes closed.

Riza smiled softly. "That's because you trust me too much," she replied, a trace of humor in her voice.

Roy mumbled something incomprehensible, then opened his eyes to look at his wife. As always, he was pleasantly taken aback by her beauty and how lucky he was to have such a practical and reliable woman for a spouse. "You're too kind to me," he spoke, clearly this time. "Remind me why you even put up with me anymore?"

He was joking, of course, and Riza knew that. However, she still couldn't stop her face from molding itself into a somewhat exasperated expression. Instead of a verbal response, she stopped massaging Roy's head long enough to bend down to kiss him. It wasn't long or overly romantic, but it relayed the message well enough. Riza straightened up, beginning to work her fingers into Roy's scalp again. To her surprise, Roy reached up subtly and gave her forearm a gentle squeeze, reassuring her unnecessarily that he was grateful for her presence.

Riza moved deftly to catch his hand as it fell from her arm, enclosing his palm in her own. "Dinner's almost ready," she said simply, moving swiftly away to tend to the meat in the oven, hoping that it hadn't overcooked by now. Hayate, who had been sitting at Roy's feet, took interest in the word "dinner" and was quick to follow his mistress into the kitchen. Roy lingered on the couch a moment longer, wondering how on earth he had managed get lucky enough to achieve his goal of making it to the top of the political food chain _and_ marry his childhood friend (whose affections he was sure he would always be barred from). As he reflected, he realized that he was really and truly _happy_, something he had convinced himself long ago that he could never be, even if he did get swamped with work sometimes. Shaking his head at such inconsequential musings (life was what it was, after all, and it wasn't exactly known for being fair), he stood and moved to join his wife and dog, where he could spend time with them as a family, after so many years with any hints of intimacy strictly forbidden by law. _Everything may not be right in the political world,_ he thought as he helped Riza set the table, _but finally, everything is right in my world_.

* * *

><p><strong>Personally, I'm excited for the next (and last!) theme because, if everything goes to plan, I get to talk about star poop (you'll understand when I post it). I'm a bit of an astronomy nerd, so I'm SO HAPPY that I get to share one of my obsessions with all you wonderful readers. GET PUMPED, PEOPLE. This is exciting stuff.<strong>


	50. Supernova

**There's a super-long author's note at the end of this that I hope you read. Anyway, enjoy this last theme, and (as always) the disclaimer applies.**

* * *

><p><strong>Supernova<strong>

Supernova: a stellar explosion that marks the death of a star. The elements that are emitted from these explosions become the building blocks for the new stars and planetary systems that are created by the supernovae's shockwaves. It is only through supernovae that the elements necessary for life can be brought into and spread throughout the universe. The light emitted from these explosions can last for months and shine brighter than an entire galaxy.

Roy and Riza had spent their entire lives working toward change. At first, they only wished to make the lives of the masses better and allow everyone to live in happiness. They wanted the struggles of the many to become the triumphs of all. In order to do this, they knew they would need the military's power. What the military proved to be, however, changed their plans drastically.

After killing thousands, they resolved to make sure the next generation would never have to deal with such atrocities—that those after them could live in blissful ignorance of the torments of war. They wanted to atone for their sins, and to do that, they needed to work from the inside. There would be no giving up for either of them, no resigning from their posts in a vain attempt to seem repentant to the public (it would not work; the public knew too much about them—only because they were praised as heroes were their heads not sought by the citizens of their own country). They recognized the need to change the political structure and remove from power those who abused their positions. The truth needed to be revealed, even if meant their own demonization and possible execution.

Then, they discovered the conspiracy of the homunculi and the one called Father. This only reinforced their desire to change the military from the inside. Only by foiling the homunculi's plans and clearing the corrupt from power could they begin to implement the grand design of change they wished to see.

After the many years they spent in Ishval beyond the Promised Day, they finally reached the top. However, they knew that they could not make all the changes they wanted to overnight. In fact, it would take them the rest of their lives to complete. But they knew that the changes they started would shine brightly for decades and become a stepping stone on which others could continue their legacy. They would provide the necessary elements for the next generations to build upon. Through their actions, others could experience the miracle of happiness they so desperately believed they did not deserve. They worked tirelessly to make sure that atrocities such as Ishval would never again be committed to the Amestrian people. When they died and their lives were analyzed, their selfless actions were praised among historians and scholars alike.

No matter what happened to them along their crooked and broken path, they always kept their end goal in sight, never ceasing to put others ahead of themselves and allow them the opportunity to shine as brightly as they. As humans upon this short walk of life, there can be no more noble deed.

* * *

><p><strong>I realize that the connection between supernovae and the characters is tenuous at best, but I hope you were able to see that I was trying to get at what I think is the true power of Royai. While their story certainly contains a tale of subtle (and forbidden!) love, it more predominantly tells a tale of devotion to one's ideals and goals. At the end of the day, Roy and Riza are not concerned with whether or not they can get married—they are concerned about whether they are moving toward their goals of atonement and betterment of the nation. This is sort of dynamic that I hope I portrayed in this final installment of my drabbleone-shot series.**

**Fun fact: The elements that are emitted and spread throughout the universe by supernovae were lovingly referred to as "star poop" by my high school astronomy teacher. The more you know. XD But you can now rest assured in the knowledge that everything we know (including ourselves) is made of star poop. You've got ancient stars' atoms in you, making up the composition of your body. That's pretty freakin' cool.**

**Man, I love astronomy. But not as much as I love you guys! *cheesy grin for a cheesy line* Thanks so much for taking the time to read, review, favorite, and alert! It's made me so happy. Every time I got a review, favorite, or alert, I squealed like a little girl. Basically, I squealed a lot during the course of this. So thank you so very much for all the virtual love.**

**Best wishes to you all,**

**WanderingTroubadour**

**P.S. I may edit some of these themes and might even replace a couple. It depends on how much time/motivation I have, but with the overloaded course schedule I have this semester, I don't how realistic that will be. So keep on the lookout if you want. :)**


End file.
